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jinwoosungs · 18 days

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{ 140 }

love letter of flowers.

jinwoo sung x florist.fem!reader

lately, there has been a handsome young man who frequented at your flower shop.

he was well dressed, always appearing within the cozy confines of your quaint little shop while in a pristine suit. with his ebony locks of hair falling across his features in gentle waves coupled along with grey eyes that seemed to shine beneath the sunlight, perfectly mirroring his emotions...

you found that you couldn't look away from him, even if you tried.

he had been visiting your shop daily for roughly a month now, with him buying the most extravagant of bouquets for someone you assumed that he loved a great deal. for some odd reason, just the thought of him already having a lover made your chest ache.

despite the bouquets he had purchased being chosen and crafted by your own loving touch, it made you yearn for a type of love this man and his beloved had. truly, the he had to be absolutely crazy about his girlfriend to buy her such gorgeous bouquets every single day.

as you were caught up in your reveries, you find yourself breaking out of your daydreams when the sounds of chiming bells alerts you to an incoming customer. as you trail your eyes toward the entrance, you felt your heart skip beats once more, seeing him again-

sung jinwoo.

he greets you with a kind smile before looking over at your collection of bouquets. curious as to what he was going to choose, you steadily head over to your cash register and keep sneaking glances at him.

after a few minutes of consideration, he chooses the bouquet he was going to gift, which had to be the most expensive one yet: a rainbow bouquet of roses consisting of bright petals shaded in a variety of colors.

your throat seems to close up in response to this man's dedication, ringing up the bouquet while tying a neat bow against its cellophane wrapping.

"your girlfriend must be lucky to have you." you find yourself telling him casually, trying to hide those stupid emotions that were felt bubbling within your chest.

"excuse me?"

hearing the absolute confusion within his voice makes you freeze and do a double take. gathering your courage, you look back up at him with a tilt of your head.

"you come in here every day to buy a bouquet... isn't it for your lover?"

after hearing your explanation, you felt your cheeks turn hotter in response to the sounds of his laughter. your assumptions seemed incredibly amusing to him, as he spent the next several minutes laughing all while trying to catch his breath.

"hahaha, y-you're so funny, haha..." you watch as jinwoo wipes the tears from his eyes, finally calming down before confessing to you.

"all of these bouquets are gifts for my mom... she..." he trails off, appearing shy all of a sudden as he rubs the back of his neck with a hand. "she was a victim to the eternal sleep disease, and she woke up not too long ago. i didn't want to take her for granted anymore, so i decided to spoil her whenever i could now that she's awake and well."

a sense of guilt was felt coursing through you, and you felt incredibly selfish for actually feeling envious over this whole ordeal. this man standing before you was not only incredibly beautiful on the outside-

but perhaps more so than that was the beauty he held on the inside, with you knowing that he had an unconditional kindness settled deep within his heart and soul.

as if he could read your thoughts, jinwoo gives you a lazy grin. "was there a reason why you brought this up?"

"n-no! no reason at all!" you take his debit card then and insert it into your card reader, taking his payment for the bouquet that had always been meant for his mother. you really hoped that jinwoo didn't catch on, or had any suspicions to your words-

but something about the look in his eyes made you think that he had probably known all along.

wanting to do something to make up for your asinine assumptions, you call out to jinwoo just as he held the newly purchased and precious bouquet within his arms.

"if you could wait a moment, sir, i- i have something for you."

jinwoo stops walking and gives you a gentle nod. as you go back to the aisles of your shop, your eyes finally land on the single bloom that you had been looking for:

a red carnation, to convey how much i admire him.

holding the red carnation gingerly within your hand, you tie a slender white ribbon over its stem before giving it to jinwoo.

"here, this one is on the house, just for... you know, your daily visits, and the fact that you're sweet enough to buy a bouquet for your mother every single day and all."

were your eyes playing tricks on you, or was it due to the lighting of your shop? because you swore you saw jinwoo's pale cheeks take on an almost rosier hue the moment he accepts your carnation.

"t-thank you. i'm not doing much, but i do want to make my mother happy."

giving him a nod, you wave goodbye to him the moment he leaves your store, letting out a dreamy sigh as you kept your gaze on him, never once straying away from him until the moment you could no longer see his retreating back.

{ ... }

it wasn't until much later that you realized just who sung jinwoo truly was-

and such realization came in the form of his supposed fans waiting for him to arrive to your flower shop as they seemed to linger outside of its periphery.

in fact, even jinwoo himself was caught off guard by those people who considered themselves a huge part of his fanbase. he seemed hesitant, and although the voices sounded muffled, you could hear bits and pieces of the conversation as you understood the gist of what was going on.

those people were absolutely smitten with jinwoo.

deciding to do a quick search of his name, you figured that he would be some minor celebrity due to some charity work he had done (because even the heavens know that the man has the heart to do so!)

so when his name popped up, and you saw his title as being yet another s-rank hunter within korea, you felt your mind go dizzy in response.

this explained how jinwoo was able to afford purchasing a new bouquet for his mother every day, with his card never seeming to decline. in fact, s-rank hunters were practically considered celebrities here-

and you felt your courage in admitting your feelings for him shrivel up in response to this newfound fact.

because you knew that you would never be able to bask in the same world as him, being labeled as a mere civilian who had no special abilities that could even survive the gates that would randomly appear, let alone fight in them.

so you continue watching the fans as they surround jinwoo with a sigh, yet, it seemed as though their interactions had taken on a bit of a stranger tone. jinwoo kept his hands upright, shaking his head at every phone and notebook that was pointed at him. he keeps gesturing at you and says a few words to them.

and oh, if you only knew that you were most likely going to have one of the busiest days of your life.

immediately, his haul of fans rush into your shop, taking bouquets and singular flowers alike as they lined up to purchase what you had to offer. despite how overwhelming the sudden influx of customers were, you were able to accurately sell the bouquets and flowers jinwoo's fans had purchased.

this went on for a few hours, and once the last of your customers had left, you were left looking at how your sales had practically doubled thanks to jinwoo. by the end of it all, your hair was left in a bit of a mess, with those loose strands falling out of your ponytail.

as you were trying to catch your breath, you hear the sounds of jinwoo's rich chuckles as he slides up towards your counter, this time with a simple bouquet of white lilies in his hand. you give him a look of suspicion, your chest practically heaving up and down in tune with your labored breaths when you shakily ask, "w-what did you do?"

a wide grin paints his handsome features as he lets out a hum while saying your name. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you purposely arch an eyebrow at him in response. "you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the sudden influx of people that nearly purchased my entire stock?"

jinwoo scratches at the tip of his nose in response, completely amused by the feign accusation in your voice. "well... i may have told them that i wouldn't take a selfie with them, or sign their notebooks if they didn't buy at least one item from your shop."

a sudden warmth was felt spreading across your chest when you ask with a bit of a tremor in your voice, "isn't that... kind of illegal?"

he hums and shakes his head, "i don't think so. after all, they were all loitering in front of your shop waiting for me... and i couldn't allow them to cause such an inconvenience to you without doing something about it."

"after all..." he suddenly leans closer to you, with his hands softly brushing back your hair as you felt your heart skipping beats in response when he tells you, "it was all my fault... they came here waiting for me, so... i took advantage of the situation to help you out, instead."

you were left speechless, unable to say a word when jinwoo hands you his debit card once more. as usual, you ring up the card and wrap another ribbon around the bouquet, and this time, you already had in mind what flower you wished to give him as a simple gift.

a pale pink ranunculus, as proof of how much i am enchanted by the sheer radiance of him.

you find the perfect bloom still settled amidst its sisters, happy that your patrons hadn't touched such a uniquely beautiful yet simple flower. giving him a shy smile, you place the pastel pink bloom on top of his bouquet of white lilies, basking in his smile.

he gives you another wave goodbye, promising to see you again the next day as you found your heart racing with anticipation.

when he leaves was when you allow your smile to disappear, turning solemn as you thought about how slim of a chance you had with him. despite how you knew that your heart was turning soft with feelings of love for him, you didn't wish to acknowledge such emotions-

because someone as bright and brilliant like jinwoo would never even spare you a second glance.

yet despite how deep down you knew you would never be able to admit your feelings for him, that didn't mean that you would stop conveying them to him-

after all, the least you could do was give him a love letter of flowers each time he came by.

{ ... }

jinwoo couldn't bring himself to allow the single flowers you had given him to die out. using his own hidden abilities as the shadow monarch, he manages to keep them in perfect condition, placing each colorful bloom within a large vase that was filled with water colored a gentle, violet hue.

he keeps such flowers separate from the extravagant bouquets he gives his mom, not even telling her or jinah of their existence. ever since he came across the beautiful woman's quaint little flower shop, he was quite enamored with her.

he would never admit such a thing to those closest to him, but he actually had a silly, ulterior motive to buying bouquets for his mother every day-

and that was to see you again, the beautiful florist who managed to capture his heart with your kindness and curious gaze.

with sigh, he spends the next hour or so simply admiring the single blooms you had given him, allowing his hand to gently caress at each petal, imagining the feel of your lips being just as soft.

"my king, if i could please have your attention."

jinwoo trails his gaze over to igris, one of his most loyal and trusted soldiers. he blinks at the former blood-red commander and gives him a nod, "what is it, igris?"

igris clears his throat while reading a book that had a picture of flowers on them. "may i ask what flowers your beloved has given you?"

"w-what- she's not my-"

"i apologize for the bluntness of my words, my king, but i must know. will you tell them to me?"

jinwoo sighs and carefully takes the precious flowers out of the vase while placing them on his desk.

a red carnation-

pink ranunculus-

pale pink carnation-

red chrysanthemum-

purple tulip-

a pink bluebell.

a deep chuckle was heard from igris as his chest seemed to puff out with pride.

"my king, if you look at the marked pages of this book of flowers and their meanings, you will come to realize that such blooms were were meant to signify that woman's love and devotion to you."

his eyes became wider, and the young hunter could feel his heart pounding from within his throat as igris places the book into his hands. sure enough, as jinwoo read the pages, he was able to piece together the hidden meaning from within each flower.

a red carnation for a deep admiration,

pink ranunculus as proof of someone's enchantment,

pale pink carnation for a new love

red chrysanthemum for a passionate love

purple tulip for a perfect love,

and a pink bluebell, to signify an everlasting love-

jinwoo quickly looks at the time before closing his eyes, searching through the consciousness of one of the soldiers he had placed with you as he saw you locking up your shop while standing on the sidewalk.

"exchange."

before igris would even utter a word, beru was left settled at the desk where his king once sat. the former ant king gives his colleague a look of confusion from suddenly reappearing within his king's room, causing igris to simply shrug in response.

"it seems as though our king has been caught up in the throes of love. we should let him be and wait for his return... with his queen."

{ ... }

you felt a sudden shift in the air the moment you left your shop, shivering slightly when you turn around and was met with the sudden appearance of jinwoo himself.

"wha- jinwoo?!"

he seemed unfazed by the look of panic in your eyes, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and sweatpants. you saw that he now wore simple converses as he takes casual steps closer to you.

upon closer inspection, jinwoo seemed to be blushing, becoming so prominent as even the tip of his ears was flushed as well.

"how did you get here... were you always here?"

jinwoo swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh, "you could say that... but, that's not what i'm here for."

before you could ask him what he meant, he goes straight into it while telling you, "those flowers you had given me these past couple of days- you know, as little 'gifts?' yeah, i...i finally know what they all mean."

you froze completely when he mentioned the free flowers you had given him and how he knew their meaning. moving your hands up and down your arms to stave off the sudden chill you felt, you act completely oblivious. "w-what? i don't know what you're talking about. i mean, those were j-just pretty and cute flowers that i gifted for you!"

"a deep admiration..." jinwoo begins to speak in a bit of a trance, "feeling enchanted by me; a new, passionate and perfect love- an everlasting love."

you found yourself waiting with bated breath, not able to move even when he approaches you, placing a hand on your cheek while softly caressing at your skin. "that was the message you wished to convey to me this whole time...?"

your heart was racing once more, feeling your gaze narrowing at him when he inches closer to you. "y-yes... it's true..."

"hm..." he trails off, yet you could see the wide grin that spreads across his lips when he places a hand against your chin, keeping you still as his hot breath was felt tickling at your lips.

"i'm glad to know that you feel the same way. and don't get me wrong, i have every intention of taking you out on a date while claiming you as my girlfriend. but first-

i really want to kiss you right now."

your eager nod and the way you let out a dreamy sigh was all the confirmation jinwoo needed to press his lips against yours in a perfect kiss, making you feel grateful that your love letter managed to reach him after all-

(regardless of the fact that jinwoo needed some help to finally understand the message you were trying to convey 💐)

a.n. - it’s about time i wrote a full on fluffy oneshot that doesn’t have much angst in it for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

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Meeting your shadowbeast boyfriend

Shadowbeast X Reader

Word count: 1.5K

Summary: You break up with your boyfriend only to find a new lover

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Headcannon

W: name calling, general breakup, mention of drugs, character death

You’ll never know exactly when it happened. It could have been when he took over the company or when the first billion hit his bank account, but you were watching your once sweet and nerdy boyfriend packing his bags in front of you. Only he was no longer your sweet, nerdy boyfriend. When did that happen?

His face was red with anger as he enumerated your many faults to you.

Lazy, he said. Undignified, he said. Dumb as a rock, he said. A bitch, he finally noted.

Every word was punctuated by another one of his new suits being stuffed into his brand new designer suitcase.

You tried to hold your tears back, be a real bitch. He deserved it after all, but you weren’t any of the things he said you were and you certainly didn’t have his cold heart.

How could he say these things to you? You thought as you sniffled in front of him.

You’d been a happy couple for five years!

You were a photographer for the local paper. You didn’t make a lot of money, but it was a noble profession. The city was a small one with little going on, so you mostly showed up at citywide events and sports games to take shots of the mayor. You came home on time every night and made your boyfriend dinner.

He’d been the workaholic, code obsessed nerd who worked late into the night at the office. It bothered you, yes, but you never said anything. Rick had ambition, who could fault him for that? You’d always packaged up his dinner and had it waiting for him when he came home. Sometimes you’d even walk to his work late at night to bring him a sweater and thermos of coffee.

There was a time when he would welcome you with a kiss and chided you for being out in the dangerous streets after dark. That time had passed, eventually those kisses turned to harsh rebukes about how you were bothering him while he worked. Finally, one day the security guard stopped letting you past the front door all together.

So you just shivered and sobbed while he told you that you could keep everything in your shitty apartment because he never wanted to have to think of your sorry face again.

When he’d finally slammed the door, you just collapsed into a ball on the couch and cried. When had things gotten so twisted? You really couldn’t put a pin on a particular day or event, but slowly your boyfriend had become a different person.

The man you knew before would have never blackmailed the CEO of the company so he could take his place in a hostile takeover, but this man did. He hadn’t bragged about what he’d done or anything, but despite what he said you weren’t stupid. You’d overheard the threatening calls he’d placed from the bathroom and even cleaned up some of the magazines he’d cut up to write his evil notes, even though they were your expensive photography issues.

You’d try to stick by him. He was your boyfriend after all and you wanted to be a supportive lover. Surely he had a plan. He wouldn’t be doing all of this for no reason, right?

It doesn’t matter now, you thought, sinking into your familiar couch cushions.

You were so exhausted from crying, you slipped into a deep slumber, your jaw clenched and your fists tight.

You were so tense, you didn’t wake to the gentle scrape of claws over your cheek as they brushed your hair out of the way or the soft kiss that was placed on your forehead before the creature that had been watching your tragedy slipped out of the room.

You woke to your phone blaring on your kitchen counter. You untangled the blanket you must have wrapped yourself in in your sleep from your limbs and scrambled over to pick it.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N). You don’t have to cover this story if you don’t want to. We’ll send someone else over,” your boss said into the receiver.

“What…? What are you talking about?” you murmured back, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“The police haven’t contacted you?” she asked.

“No…what’s going on?” you muttered. You didn't want to play twenty questions right then.

There was a pause on the other end.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Rick was found dead in a hotel room with four or five sex workers. They're still investigating, but the rumor is it was a drug overdose. Tainted cocaine. They all died of heart attacks. Spooky stuff really….but erm…I’m deeply sorry for your loss. Please take as much time as you need.”

You numbly hung up the phone and ran to the television, flicking it on.

Sure enough, your ex boyfriend’s name was all over the local news with a photo you took of him, smiling in front of his company plastered on the screen.

Local CEO found dead in hotel full of sex workers.

You glanced at your phone, noticing you’ve missed many calls. The numbers you don't recognize must have been reporters. You’re thankful you somehow slept through them.

You flopped back down on the couch feeling strangely numb. You’d never wish death on Rick, but that’s where he went straight from breaking up with you? To party with girls and do drugs in celebration? Did your relationship really mean nothing to him? Were you really just a burden to him all along?

A fresh batch of tears threatened to flow over your face as the poisonous thoughts rolled around in your head. You looked at the apartment you’d styled to Rick’s picky preferences. Gray everything, because he couldn’t stand color. There were mounted computer processors hanging on the walls instead of pictures, because he didn’t like them.

You snarled at the bland decor and hopped to your feet jerking the processors down one by one and tossing them in a pile on the floor. Then you yanked up the ugly gray rug you’d compromised on and tore the boring gray sheets he insisted on off the bed.

To your surprise an envelope flopped to the floor from Rick’s side of the bed as you removed the sheets.

You gasped, thumbing the hundred thousand dollars that was stuffed inside in mixed bills. This must have been Rick’s emergency fund. He’d gotten so rich he’d forgotten all about it. You shrugged and peeled off a few hundreds, stuffing the rest back under the mattress. It’s not like he was coming back for it.

With some money in your pocket and a pile to take to the thrift store, you spent your afternoon avoiding phone calls and shopping for new home decor, returning with a brightly colored rug rolled up over your shoulder and a handful of colorful posters in bags.

As the sun set you turned your attention to redecorating your apartment. You laid down the rainbow braided rug and hung up the framed posters you bought from the comic book store.

Finally, when you were happy with their placement you sat back to look at the new pictures.

Rick had always thought your love for fantasy fiction was uncultured, but since he was gone you indulged yourself with illustrations from your favorite series. There was a fantasy landscape with some pretty waterfalls, a picture of an elf riding a buck, and your favorite a spookier one…a picture of a dark monster with large teeth hovering over a little forest nymph.

“I like that one,” a deep voice behind you rumbled and you jumped three feet in the air, whirling around to find…nothing…just an odd cloud of smoke. Shivering, you slowly raised your fingertips to the black whorls and they coalesced into a massive form.

Before your eyes a creature 7 feet tall with midnight blue skin appeared before you. His arcing horns scraped the ceiling and his large teeth grinned down at you with an evil smile. He extended a long claw and gently pushed your hair out of your eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, darling,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

Your brain tingled as the sultry tones hit your eardrums.

“W-Who…W-what…What are you?” you stammered.

His smile got even wider revealing how many sharp teeth he had.

“I’m a shadow beast,” he said cheerfully, “and as for who I am, my name is Rafe Boldjaw, your mate. It’s a pleasure to speak to you finally, my darling.”

The words rattled in your head like loose teeth.

“A shadow…what?” you mumbled, then you glanced up at him, “mate? W-why are you here?”

His long tongue rubbed his large canine thoughtfully.

“I was here to eat a dark soul,” he said, “we shadow beasts are attracted to them.”

Your heart pounded. A dark soul? You didn’t feel dark, but you had stolen a dead man’s money. You held up your hands.

“I’m sorry! It was just a few hundred dollars! I’ll put it back I swear! I get paid on Friday! Please don’t eat my soul!”

He chuckled and circled you, his eyes eating you up, while his long claws lifted your hair off of your neck. You were so incredibly cute, he thought, the way you stuttered and trembled in front of him.

“Your soul is too pristine to eat,” he said, smiling, “though it is quite beautiful. No, I’ve already consumed the one I was hunting…I’m here for purely…personal reasons.”

You gulped, unsure what that could possibly mean.

Behind you, you felt a hot rush of air hit your neck as he sniffed you.

“B-but…i-if you don’t want my soul…whose soul did you eat?” you asked, unsure if you even wanted to know.

“No one of note,” he said casually, his long claws scraping your lower back, making you a tingle go up your spine, “a twisted CEO like many others I’ve eaten in my time.”

You gulped.

“You ate Rick’s soul?!” you whispered, hoarsely.

“Was that his name?” he chuckled, “he tasted the same as the others. Deliciously dark from all of his misdeeds. Though I have to correct you. I don’t want to eat your soul, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

He returned to your front sliding a thick finger under your chin and tipping your face up to him. Smirking, he lovingly considered the light freckles on your nose and the little lines around your eyes hinting at your age; the things that made you so perfectly you.

“You are so soft and lovely, like a blooming flower,” he said, “I’m taking you as mine.”

“Y-yours?” you asked.

He gave you his eerie smile and glanced around your living space.

“It seems you have room now that a certain pest is out of the way,” he said, “so I’ll be moving in.”

You gulped. Moving in?

#male yandere #monster oc #monster boyfriend #monster x girl #monster lover #dark shadows #yandere fluff #fluff #oc #oc x canon #fantasy fiction #my fic stuff #my fic post #monster romance #monster x human

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vergess · 10 months

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So a friend reblogging this interview tips post, which is a perfectly fine post with advice that is useful or whatever.

But I desperately need hiring managers to stop acting like the livelihood and continued survival of their interviewees is "playing the game." It's not a game; it has never been a game. It's people's survival. Our lives.

I understand that to management it's about showing team spirit. But to everyone else, management just said that I need to buy new clothes if I even want to be considered a meritorious applicant, regardless of my skills, experience and attitude.

Because every single thing I own is "ratty." That is to say, it is worn out, thread bared, and has stains/rips embroidered over. That's what being a poor person looks like.

"Oh just spend $20 on a shirt and pants."

I'm also fat. Button down shirts that won't be an Obscenity charge are $40. Pants are $60. I have 37 dollars to my name and I still have to buy medicine and shelter.

And remember: this expense is for the lottery chance that I may get hired. It is NOT an expectation presented AFTER an offer.

I get to pay for new clothes for russian roulette.

I should spend everything I have and more to buy one outfit for interviews and really, really hope that this time I get the job. Even though interviews are notoriously biased against fat people, POC, queer people, and women.

Management also just said I need to prove that I know about the company atmosphere from personal, unpaid, off the clock research above and beyond the application and interview process.

That I should self teach, BEFORE so much as an offer is made.

Meanwhile literally hundreds of my applications are thrown away on a weekly basis (I do about 15 applications a day most week days, and have been for multiple years now). The reasons for this are varied. Sometimes its because my name sounds too ethnic (I've had so many interviewers compliment me for not being Black which they thought based on my name). Sometimes they think I'm over qualified for every single job within 55 miles of me, as though having a college degree means I can photosynthesize instead of needing a home.

Often it's simply because companies lie all the time about whether they are actually hiring, posting dozens of fake job listings. That way they can tell their overworked and underpaid staff, "Oh, the reason you have 3 doubles a week is because of all those lazy unemployed assholes that don't want to work."

The fact that there is a "game" where the loser may become homeless or dead at all is deranged. The fact that the losing players all have to smile, and cheer, and cooingly tell the winners what a Good, Good Job they did is significantly more disgusting.

And let me be clear: the OP of that post is a hiring manager. That shit about "ratty clothes" is entirely under the hiring manager's opinion. There's no way to know what a given hiring manager thinks of your clothes, though if you're visibly poor, fat, or nonwhite chances are they would think you look unkempt in a full 3 piece suit with garters.

That shit about "show me you did independent unpaid labour to prove your loyalty to a company that isn't even hiring you yet" is ALSO under the manager's absolute judgment. You have NO way of knowing what stupid tidbits of information are the "right" ones to recite. You could memorize every piece of information that company has ever published and you STILL would not know which trivia is the Right Answer.

Same with the "ask me a question" shit.

There is no right answer. Interviews don't check for skills, abilities, experience, or even team cohesion.

They are vibe checks. They exist to give hiring managers a way to disqualify IMMENSELY qualified candidates over their own unexamined bigotries.

And btw? We have the science to prove it. It's called "implicit bias."

If you have an accent, are fat, aren't white, are visibly disabled or queer in any way, etc? Your inability to get a job is not because you "didn't play the game."

It's because the "game" was rigged to fuck you over from the start.

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eddieslooneymoonie · 7 months

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𝓐 𝓛𝓸𝔀 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮

𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔠 ℑ'𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔦𝔱 𝔯𝔫♥︎

*ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ, ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ, ˢᵉˡᶠ ˡᵒᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠ ᵇᵒᵐᵇˢ*

ₛᵤₘₘₐᵣy:

☆𝓔𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓪 𝓯𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽☆

You're knuckles burn, and your chest constricts. You wished for once you could just be angry without tears rising to the occasion. One rolls down your swollen cheekbone anyways.

Pathetic piece of-

"Oh fuck- Trouble! " your favorite metal head bursts through the school doors and almost trips on the concrete mid sentence.

He recovers clumsily if not a bit dramatic, arms swinging wildly to regain balance.

Then he rights himself and pauses as he gets a glance at you. Sitting in the shadows where you belong.

He says your name lower this time but his voice wobbles bit. He walks slowly over to the shady overgrown part of the school you had tried to camouflage into. You must look like a final girl from one of his horror films. Heavy eye bags, blood splatter on your face and shirt, lazy drags from a shitty cigarette.

You only gave him a side glance, wanting to avoid showing him the new decor on your face even though he had pretty much witnessed the whole debacle.

You had been hollow all week and itched to feel anything.

Fated to snap like one of Eddie's over stretched guitar strings, impossible to receive a warning beforehand.

And you would rather rot than have him catch it face first.

So you had to seek out other means. Other means......like a beautifully placed fist to a preppy bitch's fake nose after you overheard her call Eddie a retard.

Eddie stooped down a foot away from you effectively breaking the satisfying replay of a bone crunch. He looked at you like someone would a fire. Not to close.

Like it would protect him from the inevitable crash and hot sparks.

You didn't deserve him, you knew this, but he reached out towards your beat up face anyways.

"Hey," he breathed, like you would blow away if he was any louder.

His hand then, with heartbreaking gentleness brushed away the hair covering your mess.

You had taken some hits yourself from the nasty little friends of that worm.

They looked worse than you though. You were a military brat, you knew your shit.

Ed leans forward more to get a better look.

Your heart jumps even though months ago you told yourself that Eddie Munson was light-years out of your league. Only broken pieces fit with other broken pieces.

And maybe he was too.

But while he was more like a perfectly broken off peice of metal, you were more like deteriorated and jagged concrete cracks in the sidewalk that tried to trip people.

Just so that someone else might have a chance to hate you more than you do.

Yeah. You two would never work out. You were even way too lucky to have him as a friend.

Stupid.

Stupidstupidstupidstupid STUPI-

"Trouble." You flinched.

"Stop it."

His calloused finger landed in between your eyebrows and rubbed.

Ah.

Your self-hatred tell.

Angry brows.

His other hand reached out and he cradled your face.

He exposed your bloody side.

He let out what could be classified as a whimper. You guessed he got a glimpse of your eye. Leaking red into the white like carnage.

It suited.

He reached back into his jeans and brought forward a hankie.

With a touch more loving and delicate than you deserved, he cleaned blood from your split lip.

Your insides burn.

He had no right to be so close. Couldn't he hear the ticking time bomb in your chest? Feel it? Fear it? Know that only he could cure it?

Fuck.

He swiped a thumb over your cheek.

You looked anywhere else.

"Okay," he nodded.

Then he plopped down next to you.

You let him bring out a fresh cig.

You let him wrap around you.

You let him place his chin on your sore head.

You let yourself pretend that you're too tired to try and push him away.

At least now you would have company while you burned.

📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀📀

𝓗𝓲 𝓰𝓾𝔂𝓼 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽<3 𝓗𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓭𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓷𝓪𝓼𝓽𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼♥︎♥︎

×𝓸×𝓸

𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂🌙💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie oneshot #eddie angst #eddie spaghetti #eddie munson

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theladyofbloodshed · 6 months

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I finished ACFTL I wish I could open the Valory Arch, go back in time and forget these books ever existed.

Spoilers ahead for this rambling review.

This was such a boring book. It read like middle grade but that feels insulting to middle grade books. Everything - everything - was spelt out to the reader because they are clearly incapable of making inferences. 1. A seamstress sees the scar on Eva's wrist then mysteriously leaves the room - and then it's explained to the reader later that she left because she must have been informing them of the scar. 2. Explaining that vampires are often called demons due to the story curse, so the demon they are thinking of is actually a vampire. Like yeah, we got that. 3. Explaining that Archer is the man who pulled her out of the well... like girl we aren't stupid.

Once again, Evangeline remains a naive and almost stupid protagonist. 1. Desperately chases after Archer after the assassination attempt, crosses a room then is like actually no I should go to my room, never mind! The definition of forgetting why you entered a room. 2. Her - and other characters - not realising that Wolfric, Honora, and Aurora Vale are actually Wolfric, Honora, and Aurora Valor. It's like pulling a mask off a villain in Scooby-Doo.

There were plot holes and several mistakes that I cannot believe editors and proof-readers missed. For example, Evangeline is bleeding a lot on her gown after taking a knife to the chest but three minutes later - after soaking through her dressing gown - it has sealed. So it surely wasn't deep at all? She was thrown into a well. But also in that paragraph, she was thrown into a wall.

Whilst it's not new to this book, the over the top descriptions are unnecessary. We don't need a paragraph long description of every single outfit in the book. Some of the descriptions make no sense. 'Then, like a pop of soft flowery fireworks, the owners of the voices entered her suite.' What does this mean? When have fireworks ever been soft and flowery? Like in the previous books, there was an attempt at a whimsical, fairy tale fantasy but when the author is beating you over the head with "IT FEELS LIKE A FAIRYTALE" to get the point across, it's lazy. What makes a fairytale a fairytale? Just saying that it feels that way is lazy.

The overuse of words drove me crazy. Everything was little. In the same paragraph, we had a little foolish then a little paranoid. A little broken heart. A little voice. GET A NEW WORD. Speaking of new words, I'm certain a thesaurus was regurgitated - "guards were imbibing" or "diaphanous peach gown".

It felt something like guilt. It felt something like love. Just say it was that!!!!

There was an extraordinary amount of telling the reader rather than showing. Massive info dumps. Pages upon pages of thoughts and talking about a history rather than readers finding out through character's actions.

There was an absolute cop out with Luc. Oh yeah, the vampire pretender for the throne? He's ran away. And that's it. We don't need to tie up that loose end.

I don't even know why Apollo wanted to marry Evangeline? I thought it was just because of the spell in the first book. His motivations made no sense. None of it made sense. It could have been 200 pages shorter because the entire plot was Evangeline bouncing between the two thinking about how cute the world is and how magical fairytales are. I don't understand how they broke Jacks' curse. I miss the Jacks from the Caraval series.

If anybody wants to buy 3 special edition book, let me know!

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hotelheartz · 1 year

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love suite event: room 808 [LILINKA KUZMINA-YAMADA]

>> use the key on room 808!

Every time you come here, you must play the role of their "ideal." Like some sort of shared fantasy.

Lilinka seems like a nice girl, in a sort of intimidatingly perfect way. What kind of fantasies could she be hiding?

Huh… what was that music? Was she listening to something?

As you entered the room, a bold melody played from somewhere in the room, full of lively strings playing at a fortissimo that you could hear clearly, even with the speakers at a low volume. The music slowed as it ended, transitioning into a light, twinkling melody.

Finally, you spotted Lilinka; she hummed along softly, sweet voice carrying through the room as she moved along the floor in lazy, but elegant chaînés. She came to a halt after she locked eyes with you, fumbling back on her heels.

Hold on… wasn’t she an idol?

“[♡]!” She exclaimed in surprise. “You didn’t tell me you were already here!” She slipped on her low heels, tying neat bows around her ankles with a shocking speed, rushing over to you as she let her pink rag curls down over her shoulders.

“Sorry, I should’ve knocked…” you apologized, trying to figure out your role in the scene.

It was the first time you’d seen her startled like this; genuinely startled, instead of the cutesy fake reactions that were always delayed by a split second.

She wouldn’t let her guard down around even her friends in the class, so who would she be so comfortable with that she completely lets her walls down? Maybe a manager? Or a lover?

“No, no, it’s alright… that’s just one of the things I love about you, hehe.” She clasped your hands in hers. “You’re the only person who can surprise me like that, you know. You should be honoured~!”

She kissed your cheek briefly, before bringing you over to the bed, sitting you down. You didn't object to her newfound pushiness, and sat as she guided you to.

"So, since I've quit being an idol," she began, twirling around happily on her toes. "I've had so many antis! People are always swarming me, and bothering me, like leave me alone, jeez! Stupid little brats calling themselves my fans, when they really just want a person to creepily focus on, right?"

She... wants to quit being an idol?! And she said she loved all her fans... that was a lie?!

But she said she wanted to give everyone hope... she said that she wants to live and grow with all her fans... her entire career was based on a lie. You knew that lots of idols were the same, but from the Ultimate Idol?

You found yourself pondering, instead of listening to her ranting and rambling. It wasn't intentional, really, it was just a shock.

"Are you okay? You're acting weird." She asked, stepping closer. "It's not like it's the first time I'm saying this, either. Are you sick, or what?"

"U–um, yeah! Yeah, I'm fine! I was just, uh, I didn't get much sleep, ha..." you tried your best to convince her, throwing in a yawn to make it more believable, while you watched her move throughout the room.

Her body moved with grace, noticeably less bouncy than usual. She seemed more relaxed; more comfortable with herself. Maybe her quitting wouldn't be a bad thing...?

"Hm, really? Were you that excited to see me?" She smiled warmly at you, with a slight teasing air. "Then..."

Undoing the ribbons on her shoes, she set them aside once more, ridding herself of the simple wrap skirt that was once tied around her thin waist.

"W—wait, Lilinka—"

"Shush, you're sleepy 'cause of me, right? I have to take responsibility~!" She draped her sweater over the chair, taking a seat on the bed, against the plush pillows behind you. "C'mere."

You looked at her from your place at the foot of the bed. She had the pink fleece blanket laid over her bare legs, and she patted her chest, as if to offer it as a pillow.

"I shouldn't... I came here to—" you paused; what were you here for? "—spend time with you! I would feel pretty bad to sleep through it..." Nice save.

"Bullshit, you always nap with me! Come on, you came all the way here to see me, you deserve it~" she purred, pulling a heart-shaped cushion into her lap. "What's gotten into you, hm? Are you feeling shy all of a sudden?"

Crap. You were totally blowing it, weren't you?

Slowly, you slunk up next to her, letting her pull the blanket over you. Her body was warm, but her hands were cold, as they guided yours to her waist. She wrapped her lean arms around you, your head naturally resting on her soft chest.

"There you go, cute as ever, hehe." She spoke, vibrations of her voice thrumming down her collar. "Nighty night, [♡]..."

You tried your best to fight sleep, but she had some kind of drowsy effect on you. You could swear she was magical, with the way she affected you...

#똑똑 ♡

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talea456 · 5 months

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Hey, @wearewatcher! I've got a request for Ghost Files! (And honestly, something for Shane to do...cause I think he's who can answer this call...you know, the chosen one.)

Flesh out ghost/paranormal world-building, please!

Listen, I like to zone-out listening to ghost hunting things on Youtube while doing my hyperfixating on my puzzles and such, and y'all, most ghost hunters have THE WORST headcannons. (And they ask the dumbest questions ever.) For example:

1) Like, creepy basement ALWAYS = demons!! What? That's dumb. Why would some all-powerful, evil being just be hanging in a basement of all places? (Idk man, I think the biggest evil in the world is like...people who commit genocide or maybe exploit others for their own gain?)

But okay, let's say basement = demons. Then, why are the demons always in the basements? Going a bit Good Omens with this right now, but...are they actually on their demon "lunch break?" Like, they head to dark, damp places to be left alone, but then all these stupid humans come in with their loud-ass spirit boxes and bug the shit out of them? Is that why they're always like "RUN," "EVIL" and "LEAVE?" ...'Cause if I'm on my lunch break, same demons. Same.

-> If so, I think it would be nice to share some new ideas for keeping humans out of their way. Like, maybe they just don't realize that "creepy victorian girl in a nightgown" isn't enough to scare 21st century humans away. (Not that it's their fault they don't know that. It's hard for adults to keep up with teenager trends, so I can only imagine how hard it would be to keep up with human trends if you're immortal.) Maybe they need to consider appearing as a giant spider like Shelob or something. Most people would run away from Shelob. Or appear as a roach or bug infestation or something (you know, like the insect cave in Temple of Doom). Other than potential fumigators or entomologists, most people would skip going to the basement in that case.

2) Also the stupid theory that the demons need energy from fear?? Makes no damn sense. There's energy freakin' everywhere in nature! That's what makes even Physics 101 so annoying--all those forces and such. So...why would their fuel need to be emotion? And okay, sure, if for some supernatural reason emotion is their food, why only human emotion? Why couldn't they just freak out a raccoon and be good with that? If I were reading a Fanfic and the author did such lazy-ass world building, I would stop reading. (Please ask the basement demons if they also think this theory is stupid next time you're down there.)

-> And also, if you go back to the Conjuring house, maybe suggest to the bent-neck lady that she should try crawling in a back-bend like a Japanese ghost for additional fear/creep factor...'cause word is out on her bent neck thing, so it's probably lost the same "scare" level it used to have. If human fear = food, girl is probs starving! So help her out, please.

Other random questions that I want to ask ghosts instead of the stupid "how did you die?" or "do you know you're dead?" questions:

If you're just going about your day without a body, do you still like, go to the bathroom and stuff? I mean, Everyone Poops (as the children's book says), but if you don't have a body, you don't need to poop. But if you don't think you're dead, then you must be going through the act of pooping, 'cause not needing to poop for like 100 years is kinda a dead give away (pun intended) that you're dead.

Do you have to wear your fancy outfits after death? Can't you just change into like pajamas or something more comfortable than a full suit or victorian dress? I mean, COVID shutdown proved to us that living humans turn to pajamas as often as possible, so I would assume ghosts would too. (OH SHIT! Is that why there are so many lady-ghosts in nightgowns in the UK? They're just getting comfy???)

Do they miss food? (Cause I would totally miss ice cream, pizza, burgers, etc.) Or can they have ghost-feasts like that imaginary meal the lost-boys had in the movie Hook?

(I could think of more, but I should probably wrap this up.)

In conclusion: Do the other ghost-hunters a solid by completing some world-building so the bullshit at least makes sense.

#watcher #ghost files #ryan bergara #shane madej #ghost hunting #neurodivergent thoughts

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theinternetisfulloftrash · 2 years

Text

Dylan Couch Drabble ? Thing? ?

Unedited and haven’t written in a couple months so it’s a bit rusty but had the inspo so, enjoy I hope? ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

OH MY GOSH! THANK YOU FOR THIS!

Anon is continuing what they submitted HERE, so I will add it on the beginning to keep it all together.

I am truly blessed that this lovely human would write something so yummy to appease my ridiculous interview kink ;) So for you? I made a GIF <3

Blessssss!

- Trashy xoxox

After a long day of press interviews Dylan slides his laptop back on the table and leans back on the couch, head tilted back and watches out from under his lashes as you walk out of your bedroom across the living space toward the kitchen.

He catches your eyes and just lifts his arms up in a silent request, holds them out until your settle yourself down into his lap, your head in the curve of his neck and your hands resting on the broad span of his chest

“Hi.” Your voice is a whisper in Dylan’s neck and you lower your body down until you’re seated in his lap. The soft loose fabric of his sweatpants drags against your bare thighs and you shiver at the warmth of him. You had been cosy under the covers of your bed just moments prior where you’d tucked away for the afternoon with your book.

With Dylan doing press most of the day you had made use of the day getting through your to-do list that would no doubt be full again by your next day off. With the evening approaching, the home clean and Dylan needing silence for his zoom calls, curling up with a book had been an easy choice.

The hours had slipped by and it wasn’t till you heard the break of the gentle lilt of Dylan’s low voice through the walls that you realised he must be done for the day. It had been hours since you’d seen him, well, had his attention and you were on your feet before you realised to go see him.

Dylan’s hands are quick to find the shape of you, palms resting flat on your bare thighs where you’d forgone pants hours earlier while doing laundry. His body is broad and hot against the line of your couch, and his touch is warm on your cool skin. You listen to his slow pattern of breathing, the fog of sirens sounding in the distance, and the low patter of rain that has been at the tall windows all day.

Your eyes dip closed and your fingers make lazy patterns on his chest against the light grey of his long sleeve. You can’t help but to touch.

Dylan’s smile presses into your hair after a few more breaths, and he pauses there before his mouth finds the shell of your ear. “Hey you,” he mutters, an intimate greeting more suited in a crowded room than the empty living space, with only Tony in attendance, happily asleep in the corner.

“All done, hotshot?” you asked and feel the gentle shake of Dylan’s chest in answering laughter.

“You’re stupid,” he huffs back and his fingers slip up under the edge of the jumper that’s sitting at your thighs.

“Don’t worry, kid, one of these days you’ll make it big and you won’t have to work all these long excruciating hours,” you tease back, your own fingers searching up to find the neckline of Dylan’s shirt and curling around it.

“Oh my god.” Dylan’s voice is a rasp and you push closer to hide your grin in the line of his throat. Your tilt your head to draw your lips over the vein that outlines his Adam’s apple, more pronounced now from his hours of talking and laughter.

You listen to his slow pattern of breathing, the fog of sirens sounding in the distance, and the low patter of rain that has been at the tall windows all day. Your eyes dip closed and your fingers make lazy patterns on his chest against the light grey of his long sleeve. You can’t help but to touch.

You tilt your head to draw your lips over the vein that outlines his Adam’s apple, more pronounced now from his hours of talking and laughter. You listen to his heart steady under your ear and sigh, push yourself up on your knees ever so slightly to sit your hips back and tuck your body in closer to him, knees pressed to the back of the couches, bodies pressed as close as possible.

Dylan lets out a happy grunt at the movement and one hand leaves one of your thighs to wrap around your waist, as if you could get closer. “Miss me?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know the smug smile on his face, the light in his eyes.

“You just make this place so cold,” you huff, your actions betray you as you wrap an arm around Dylan’s neck now, the other slinging over his shoulders to gently scratch your nails of the bulk of muscle of his shoulder.

“And you don’t wear pants,” he replies, his hand has finally found its way from your thigh to the curve of your ass, holding the weight of it in his palm.

“Might have to start if you keep it this cool.” It’s an empty threat but he lets out a noise of objection nonetheless, squeezes you closer still.

“You been like this all day?“ he asked and you know what he means by the way his fingers are drifting up from your ass to your lower back and down again, the fabric of your jumper gathering up with the motion of his wrist.

“Had to wash my jeans I had on, so yeah, after laundry,” you answer and press a few lazy kisses on the warm curve of his neck.

“Mmm...and all this time I was out here working hard and you were just in there looking like that,” Dylan sighs as though he’s undergone some great injustice, as though he didn’t wake up to you naked in his arms this morning before following you into the shower.

“That’s showbiz, baby,” you mumble, do some abstract display of jazz hands against his back, and laugh when his hand comes down against your ass in an open-palmed smack.

“Behave,” he huffs.

You giggle open and bright into his throat, and mumble, 'naughty' into his skin as his hand weaves through your hair to cradle your head.

“Your favourite thing to be,” he replies and eases you away from his neck so he can look at you properly in the low dimming light of the early evening.

When you pull back and look at him you can see the tiredness around his eyes, and as much as you tease him, he does exhaust himself doing these. Dylan is genuine to a fault, he engages in all interviews and conversations and gives them his energy and focus and you know he gets anxious at times about more private topics being bought up. You smile at him then, and reach your hand to cup his cheek, rub your fingers gently over his jaw and chin, soft touches that he leans into.

Dylan hums and his eyes fall shut and you love how he loves affection like this, how he always wants you right there close to him. He smells like hair product and your moisturiser he used this morning, and he’s looking down at you in slow blinks of dark eyes and long lashes before his hand gathers under your chin to tug you in.

Dylan kisses like he talks with intent focus and passion, licks into your mouth like his home is behind your teeth. You kiss hot and slow until you pull away with fluttery breaths, and he chases your mouth with a few small pecks, to the top and bottom lip, to your teeth when you let out a small laugh.

He groans and ducks his head for your neck, hand still petting at your ass and waist as he kisses at your throat, the other slid down from your chin to just below where his mouth is on you now.

Your hands smooth down Dylan’s back, the soft cotton under touch the shape of lines of his broad frame that taper to his waist, the way his body is strong under you with every breath. You feel Dylan pause and your hand goes to his hair, scratching through lazily as you decide to nudge your hips closer, a silent ask for him to keep going so you can both get what you want.

Dylan hums and the hand on your ass grips to keep the heat of you pressed to his lap, but the other reaches to your jaw and turns your head to look back at the computer that’s propped up on the table still. “Mm should do my interviews like this,” he breaths as your eyes focus on the picture you and Dylan make in the reflection of the screen.

It looks dirty and makes you pulse with want. The idea of anyone else seeing the way he’s got you now, bundled up like a wanting little present on his crotch, a hand slipped up under your jumper enough to lift it and show the curve of your bare ass where you can’t see the line of your thong, the other hand wrapped around your jaw, making you look.

“Mmm...that’s an exclusive Mr. O’Brien,” you whisper as you turn into his kiss.

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merlinthebitch · 2 years

Text

SUNNY GIRL

One shot // wc- 4.5k

Tags- angst, smut

Synopsis- you discovered something about your boyfriend that wasn't meant for you to see

It was 4.31am in the morning, when you had to get up and leave for the airport to pick up your boyfriend Gojo who had been away for a mission overseas.

After picking Satoru up, you drived to your suburban apartment before picking up some noodles on the way for the both of you. Satoru looked jovial as usual, his big ear to ear smile and veiled eyes but you knew he must be a little jet lagged.

But his tiredness almost faded away when he had picked you up by your waist and threw you on the bed and hungrily kissed your lips.

You, like a touch starved animal, quickly undressed him off of his jujutsu high uniform and Satoru as well followed suit.

Needless to say, you both made lots love in the early hours of morning, almost making it to four rounds! Only for you to give up, tired, hair all messed up, mouth ajar panting, breathing in for as much air as you can and whole body shaking as Gojo's cum gushed out of your cunt. Gojo smirked as he felt proud of you for lasting so long even though you were tired from yesterday's work, late night drinks and waking up so early for him.

Satoru sat up on the bed after lying in with you. "C'mon mochi, get up! get up! Time for a bath!". You were too tired and spent to move an inch so you simply laid on the bed like a lazy cat and told him to go alone and that you'll join him soon. Satoru, being the fine gentleman, let you have your well deserved rest and headed towards the bath.

As you clumsily laid on the bed, you started thinking about your relationship. Three years and still together you both had been. There were no secrets between you two, no lying either. You are the luckiest woman in the world to have the dreamy prince all women fancy about right by your side. The rich, the handsome, the strongest with a dead sense of humor, he is the cutest and most adorable partner you could've ever asked for-

~buzzz~buzzzz~buzzzzzz~

Your mind snapped out of your thoughts at the buzzing phone. Oh no! It must be your boss! What time is it now? It IS your boss! You sat up in a hurry only to feel a stinging pain. Oh Satoru! Anyways, you took your phone in your palm from the oak bed side table only to find its not your phone thats ringing?

You tilted your head to the other table, where Satoru had laid before and found, 'oh! It was HIS phone! Stupid me!' You thought to yourself only to went into a second of blank moment in your head when the name you read on his phone's call. It read, 'Lisa Lisa6'.

You picked up the call to a girl whispering," hey handsome when are you stopping by hehe" you hurriedly ended the call.

Lisa Lisa6? Who in the world could this be? And over that, what's with a specific number? And OVER THAT, why is SHE calling him handsome?

You unlocked his phone. Yes, you knew his password but you trusted him so checking up on each other was never necessary. But now, now the situation is different because what you saw next.... BLEW YOUR MIND.

You fell laying on the expanse your bed and scrolled through his contacts.

...Y/n mochi❤, Marieokinawa1, Saorimilf002, kyoko03, kyoto sugarRiko4, Liza5, Lisa Lisa6...

The list went on with random names of women along with numbers.

You lost it. Your anger took over your sane and tired figure as you got out of the bed, the pain in your lower abdomen still there. Putting on your bra and panty, you stomped angrily to the bathroom and kicked it right open to a naked 6'3 form of a man sitting in the tub, struggling to scrub his back.

"Oh! Mochi you're here! What a dramatic entry by the way. Could you help me with thi-"

"Just who the fuck are all these women you fucker!"

Oh no! You found out yeah? Gojo eyes widened at the realization of the same and dropped the scrub. "Babe. I can explain."

"NO SHUT IT YOU!" You looked back at his phone and violently scrolled through his contacts," just who are these- the list is going on and on- ugh i can't with you-"

Satoru got out of the tub and put on the towel. He came closer to you and held your shoulders,"mochi-". " GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!" You screamed in agony at the thought of the fact that the man you had slept with all these years, spent those happy moments was all a lie. He never loved you, isn't that the reason why he had go look for someone who isn't you?

"...get out..." you mumbled through tears. "Babe i-". "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! Please.... just don't talk to me ever again!"

Satoru knew what he had done is wrong so he did not waste time in further confrontation and obliged to your request and left before kissing your head to which you violently moved your hands, slapping your palms on his chest.

You didn't go to work that day instead after a long session of shower and weeping for your love, you took your car and went on a long ride to the empty, less populated roads and later returning home, you stopped by a local pub and got drunk like no tomorrow and dozed off in the corner of the pub after creating a ruckus by getting into a catfight with another woman who had the same name as the one on your EX boyfriend's contacts.

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write-like-wright · 3 years

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Your First Kiss With Them: Prosecutors Edition

A lovely anon requested first kiss headcanons with both defense lawyers and prosecutors, so I'm just gonna do it in two parts.

Miles Edgeworth

It happens spontaneously with Miles.

You'd gone on a few dates already and he always walks you to your door, like the gentleman he is. When it's time to say goodbye, he lingers for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. He always flakes in the end, leaving you after an awkward hug and a face that matches the colour of his suit.

One day you're just at his place. It's one of those lazy days when you order takeout and sit at home binging Steel Samurai. A funny scene comes on, something that leaves you both in stitches. It's such a sweet thing, seeing him laugh so earnestly, some colour rising to his face. You lean over and press a kiss to his lips almost instinctively and he freezes for a second and so do you once you realise what you'd done. You apologise awkwardly, fearing you'd crossed a line.

"What are you sorry for? I quite liked that," Miles laughs. "At least one of us has enough courage to act."

Franziska von Karma

Happens in the middle of an argument, most likely. Nothing serious, of course. You're just bickering over something silly and Franziska gets a bit too smug with her comebacks. It annoys you to no end, seeing that smarmy grin on her lovely face. You stand there for a second, feeling an overwhelming urge to-

"Why are you glaring at me like that? Just because I'm right doesn't give you the excuse to act like a f-"

Silence. Cut off by a kiss.

She's completely dumbfounded when you part. It takes her a moment to regain her composure.

"Well," she says eventually. "How foolish of you. Trying to win an argument through such underhanded tactics."

You keep on bickering.

She kisses you not two minutes later when she realises her argument makes no sense and you gain the upper hand.

Diego Armando/Godot

It's the classic scenario with him.

He takes you out for a cup of coffee one rainy afternoon. You sit at the coffee shop for hours, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. It's dark outside before you even realise it and he offers to walk you home. The conversation keeps flowing on your way to your place and you feel a pang of sadness when it's time to say your goodbyes. You tell him how much you enjoyed your date and he just casually leans in for a kiss that lasts a bit longer than you'd expected. There's no way your neighbours won't gossip about it tomorrow.

Klavier Gavin

He texts you to wear something warm before your date. You're confused but oblige.

Klav shows up on his bike to pick you up and it all makes sense suddenly. "Come on, Schatzi, I'll show you what a real adrenaline rush feels like."

He's true to his word. He drives you around the city, the cool twilight air rushing past you and you feel more alive than ever.

Eventually, he takes you to his favourite spot, a clearing overlooking the entire city. It feels surreal seeing all the city lights intertwine with the stars above. You sit on his bike while he stands in front of you, talking about something or another. It's hard to say who leans in first, but soon enough you're kissing. It's your first kiss together, then the second and third and fourth...

Simon Blackquill

You're just fooling around at his place.

Simon is a massive tease when he drops his twisted persona. He picks little fights and picks on you just to get you worked up. It's a mixture of endearing and annoying.

He puts on some stupid show you're not interested in one bit. Neither is he, but he'd rather tease you about it than change the channel.

"Give me the remote, Simon."

"Come get it, *insert dumb nickname*"

You try and fail spectacularly. It's just play wrestling, but that doesn't change the fact he's twice your size and can pin you down with one-fifth of his weight. Not that you mind.

You're both giggling breathlessly at this point. "Do you yield, miscreant?" He asks in his scariest prosecutor voice. Dumbass. "I yield, I yield! Just let me go!"

"You must pay the toll first," he deadpans, crossing his arms.

"And what is the toll?"

"A kiss, if I recall correctly."

You buy your freedom and he lets you up, handing you the remote and letting you curl up against him on the sofa.

You pay his toll a few more times during the evening.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi

You're very hesitant to kiss Yuti.

He's a monk. You're not even sure it's allowed.

You start wondering if you'd perhaps been misunderstanding your outings. They were clearly dates, you thought, but then again he could merely see them as you acting as his tour guide to introduce him to your culture. You're very torn on the matter.

On your way home from dinner, you pick up some dessert. Nothing fancy, just cupcakes from a local bakery. You eat them at your place while trying to explain the concept of Netflix and chill to him. It's hard to say if he's scandalized or intrigued.

"These are so good! Would you like a taste?" You ask with your mouth full, perhaps overexaggerating your food-induced moaning.

He gives you one of those sweet, gentle looks he's known for. "Certainly," he says, bridging the gap between you, pressing the softest of kisses to your lips. You're confused by his actions but you'd be lying if you said you minded.

"What was that about?"

"Hm? Oh, that was a pick-up line, was it not? I've heard about those. Although I hear that one is usually used with flavoured lipgloss."

"Yuti, I was just offering you some of my cupcakes."

"Oh," he seems a bit embarrassed now. "Do forgive me then."

"I didn't say I minded. But you can't just go around kissing people like that."

"I'll jot that down in my 'How to act like a native' notebook."

Barok van Zieks

(Heavily inspired by my incessant bugging of @bailey-reaper from my main)

It happens during his University days.

Barok approaches you at a gathering, completely red-faced while Klint and Albert snicker within earshot. He asks you to dance with him in the most roundabout way possible, to the point where you're not quite sure what he's asking of you.

You agree and are surprised at how good of a dancer he is in spite of his initial and apparent awkwardness. Must be those long, elegant legs.

He takes you on a stroll after and you end up alone on a balcony. His initial nervous demeanour slowly melts away, although he's still more than a little shy. You chat away and you even get a laugh out of him at some point. It's one of your personal victories.

It's almost midnight when you are interrupted. "Ah, brother, there you are!" Klint van Zieks suddenly joins you on the balcony. His lips curl in a knowing smirk as he turns to greet you. "Mother has sent me to get you aeons ago! I've been looking for you all over. It's time to leave. Say your goodbyes, and be quick." He leaves then, giving you a moment of privacy.

"I-I, hm, I have really enjoyed your company tonight. Thank you for the dance. I fear I must be going now."

"Wait," you say placing your hand on his arm, half expecting him to recoil. He doesn't. You get on your tip-toes and you can still barely reach his face. Thankfully, he's already slouching. You press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, hoping no one saw you. "Surely, you wouldn't have left me without a kiss goodnight?"

His face is burning now and he swallows. "Pray, forgive the discourtesy. How careless I am. I'll bear it in mind for next time." With that, he turns and leaves you.

Kazuma Asogi

He walks up to you one day right as you're about to head to your next class, looking pensive and excited at once. You know why, you'd heard the news. Kazuma had been selected for the student exchange and you were thrilled for him - no one deserved it more than he did. You just hoped you did a good job of hiding how sad you were to see him leave regardless.

"I can't leave you here without a proper goodbye. Leave your books, come on." He convinces you to skip the rest of your classes and drags you away on an adventure as he calls it.

You spend the day together, joking around, getting food and window shopping. Finally, you settle under the shade of a tree where you usually met up in secret. He babbles away about the law, the British Empire, his plans for the future.

When he runs out of topics to talk about, he goes quiet, dark eyes searching your face. "Do you know why I stole you away today?" Stole? He's so dramatic. You shake your head. "I don't want you to forget me when I'm gone. Remember this day, and me and this." With that, he gently takes your face in his hands and leans in, claiming your lips in a heated kiss. It's so intense, you feel yourself burning under his touch. Tears prickle your eyes when you part. "I hate to so you go," you whisper weakly and he gives you a sad, understanding smile. "I know. I'm so sorry." You pull him into another kiss, lying down on the grass, hidden by the shade of the tree. You're not about to let him forget you either.

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #diego armando #godot #klavier gavin #simon blackquill #nahyuta sahdmadhi #barok van zieks #kazuma asogi #headcanons #x reader #can you tell who my favourites are from this yes you can hi simon barok and kazuma how you doing babes #did i tag everyone i hope so

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littlesniggy · 3 years

Text

Devine Juice

Anon: Heyo! How are ya? I hope all is well! I was wondering if I could get Zoro with a chubby fem s/o who wants him to help her lose weight but he gets a turned on my her. He tries to make a move but she’s too shy. He thinks it’s cute, and works through it and makes his move. Nsfw please!

If not have a lovely day/night and have some good vibes!

-🥐 annon

Hey Anon! Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy it! I honestly have no idea how Zoro would be in a relationship other than still being lazy but I think it's not too far off. Maybe.

Pairing: Zoro x chubby fem! reader

Warning: 18+, nsfw, smut, insecure reader, tongue and finger f******

Word count: 1,7k

“Huh? Help you lose weight?” Zoro looked up at you from his lying position, his eyes wandering up and down your body. “How come?” he asked, his eyes lingering a little too long on your curvy hips. “I like the way you look.” He added. You blushed slightly, fidgeting with your fingers and looking at your feet, not noticing his wandering eyes.

“I…I just want to get in shape a little more.” You said quietly, not telling him that you might or might not be a little insecure about your body, especially since the two of you haven’t done the naughty thing yet. You were wondering what he would think about your body. You weren’t wearing anything that didn’t suit your body – you knew you were looking good – but it was always a different thing seeing someone in clothes and seeing someone naked.

“What were you thinking about?” You looked at him, a little bit confused, blushing about your thought. “W-what?” you stuttered. Zoro raised an eyebrow and sat up. “What kind of training do you want to do? Cardio? Muscle? Both?” “U-uhm….I guess cardio is the best way to lose weight…” you suggested. Zoro nodded and got up into a standing position.

“Then let’s get going!” he announced, walking past you towards the training room he was always using. “What? Right now?” you asked, following him. “But I have to get changed into work out clothes before!” Zoro sighed and looked at you over his shoulder. “Fine. But hurry! Your training is about to start!”

It was harder for Zoro than it was for you. Not that this light training he was doing with you had him sweating or anything but he always had to look over to you. You were too focused on doing squads, not realizing that he had stopped moving, his eyes following a small bead of sweat running down your neck and disappearing in your cleavage. He slowly moved around you as if he was checking if you were doing it right but honestly he just wanted to take a look at your butt sticking out every time you crouched down.

Wild fantasies came to his mind when seeing your legs tense up and easing again. He imagined your legs wrapping around his hips – or better yet his head – as he made you cum over and over again. Now it was his turn to not notice how you stopped and looked at him, face red from the workout.

You tried to catch his attention but he seemed to be lost in thought. Confused, you knitted your eyebrows together and caught the bulge between his legs out of the corners of your eyes. A gasp escaped your lips, snapping Zoro back into reality.

“Did you say anything, Y/n?” he asked. You pointed down at his crotch, your face now beet red from embarrassment and you averted your eyes. Zoro’s face turned red Immedeatly but he caught himself soon after.

“Sorry. I just can’t help it. You’re just too….tempting.” he said, making you blush even further if that was possible.

“D-don’t say something like this when I’m sweating like an animal.” Your voice was meek, barely audible. How could he say something like this in a situation like this? You were not looking sexy in any way right now! But Zoro seemed to have a different opinion on this matter.

“If you could see yourself right now you’d think the same.” He chuckled, coming closer to you. Instinctively, you made a step back and Zoro stopped, looking at you a little bit concerned. “You okay?” he asked. “Did I do something wrong?” why were you backing away? Did he scare you?

“I-it’s nothing.” You tried to play it down but he didn’t buy it. “Tell me.” He made another step towards you, halting right in front of you and looking you in the eyes. Butterflies filled your stomach; you bit your lips, unconsciously inhaling his scent. He smelled so nice. Zoro put a hand under your chin, lifting it up. You hadn’t even noticed that you were staring at the floor in front of you.

“Tell me.” He insisted again, his calloused thump gently stroking your bottom lip. “I….I just feel a little insecure.” You answered reluctantly but honestly. “Why? What could you possible feel insecure about?” it was a genuine question and it made your heart flutter. How could he not see your potential insecurity? Especially since he was simply ripped.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I know.” God, he was making this really hard for you. Every word coming from his mouth, every honest compliment he made had your insecurities pushed to the furthest corner of your mind – little by little.

He leaned down, his lips only brushing against yours.

“I’ve noticed that you keep pushing our first time further and further away, always finding an excuse. First I thought you didn’t like me.” His hot breath ghosted your skin, his low voice making your knees weaker.

“I love you.” You said, almost sounding like you were defending yourself. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t like him – cause the opposite was true!

“I know. And I love you, too. But now I get why you did it. And I have to tell you your reason is stupid.” Ouch. “It’s not stupid. It’s normal to feel insecure about your body from time to time.”

“But you don’t need to. Maybe I have to show you just how perfect I think you and your body are.” He closed the distance, giving you no option to protest as he started kissing you. His hands moved over your arms and rested on your hips, lazily massaging your hips.

Then, his hands moved up, under your sweaty shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head. You tried to hide yourself from his eyes but he gently pushed your arms down, looking at your body.

“You wanna know what exactly I like about your body?” No sound left your mouth as hhe moved his lips to your mouth. “Your lips….” he kissed your neck. “And your neck….” Lips touching your collarbone. “…and this part….” Your face heated up again when his hands found their way under your sports bar, pulling it off as well. “And especially those two.” He grinned, burying his face between your breasts, his hands massaging the soft flesh.

You let out a small moan, your look one of arousal and embarrassment. He moved further down, kissing your belly, appreciating every single inch with either his mouth or his rough hands until he stopped at your waistband. He looked up at you, waiting for you to either give him permission or stop. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slightly.

Zoro pulled your leggings down, leaving you in your panties. His hands moved up and down your legs, massaging the flesh there as well. The closer he got to your core the wetter you got. Kneeling in front of you, he must be seeing the dark stain on the fabric. He grinned at you, licking his lips before letting his tongue glide over your clothed sex, making you moan and your legs quiver.

He pulled you down to lay on your back, positioning himself between your legs.

“Do you know how much I’ve waited for this, Y/n?” he whispered, his hands hooking under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down, exposing your wet heat to his eyes. “Z-Zoro…” you started but stopped, not knowing why you said his name. The swordsman smiled at you before he made himself comfortable between your legs, laying on his stomach, his hands hooked under your thighs and holding them in place while he spread your legs.

“Itadakimasu.” He purred before his tongue licked over your slit, making your hips jerk against his mouth in response. Zoro pressed you down even further, rendering you unable to move too much. And that’s when he went to town.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking at it while circling his tongue over it. You moaned out in pleasure, throwing your had back. You could feel his grin against your wet core as he let go if your clit, sliding his tongue over your slit over and over again, making wet noises as he did. His tongue dipped inside your sex, ravishing every inch it could reach. Your juice was flowing out like a river as he tongue fucked you, your legs trying to get free from his grip.

You couldn’t hold back your moans, even when you pressed your hands against your mouth, not doing too much to muffle the shameless sounds.

“Zoro…!” you gasped as he sucked at your clit again. His one arm let go of your thigh, entering your sex with two fingers and moving them in and out, curling them inside of you in just the right angle.

You managed to get his other hand off your thigh somehow as well and wrapped your legs around his head, pushing him closer into you. You heard him groan in pleasure as he picked up his pace, licking up every bit of your sweet juice and slowly driving you to your orgasm.

“Shit…Zoro! I-I’m gonna….!” But it was too late and you came with a breathtaking orgasm that knocked all the air out of your lungs.

Your muscles slowly relaxed, Zoro still drinking the sweet nectar between your legs. Nothing was to be wasted!

Breathlessly, you laid there, trying to get a clear thought again. Zoro got up from between your legs, licking up the rest of your cum from his mouth, grinning wide.

“Do you still feel insecure? Do you still wanna postpone our first time together?” His smirk was almost cocky, knowing you wouldn’t say no after he just drank you like you were a bottle of his booze.

You grinned at him as well, confidence filling your body. “Then show me what you’ve got. I can take more.”

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #Zoro x reader #ns.fw #sm.ut #insecure reader #chubby reader #female reader #op Roronoa zoro #request #thank you

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

content warnings: secondhand embarrassment, i dont know how skiing works, poor editing, NSFW 🔥

***

To Nesta’s horror, Cassian was serious when he said he’d teach her how to ski. Nevermind the fact that it’s his birthday, and they should be having a lazy morning together filled with cuddles and breakfast in bed. Instead, they’ve been up since six in the morning without food or drink, just to shuffle around in the snow while Cassian repeats the same instructions over and over. By late morning, the rest of their group has gotten up and joined them at the beginner’s trail to be firsthand witnesses to Nesta’s humiliation.

She stares down at the blinding white slope before her and inhales a breath of frigid mountain air, trying to steel her nerves before she has to push off the ground and take flight.

Cassian sees her hesitation and sighs. “Come on, Nesta,” he urges. “It’s thirty feet to the bottom of the hill.”

“Why is it so steep?” she demands, even though she knows this is a practice hill. Toddlers in skis are shuffling around them, hand in hand with their parents.

“You’re not falling to the bottom,” Cassian says, growing impatient. “You’re gliding.”

He’s already shown her how to maneuver with skis a dozen times already, and Nesta can see that he doesn’t have another dozen times left in him. Unfortunately for him, Nesta’s own patience was used up hours ago. Her stomach pangs with hunger, and she has a pounding headache from the cold and lack of sleep.

“Oh, come on, Nesta,” Gwyn calls from behind her. She hops up and down in her snow boots like a cheerleader. “You can do it!”

Nesta does not want to do it. She looks down at the hill, then back at Cassian with pleading eyes—eyes that he can’t see under her ski goggles anyway.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Azriel mutters from somewhere. He picks up his ski poles and points to Emerie. “Ski lift?”

“Sure—” she starts to say, and then remembers that she’s here to support Nesta. “Not now,” she amends.

“Just go,” Cassian turns to tell them. “At least some of us will be having fun.” Nesta watches as he goes over to Emerie and Az to give advice on the trails, the same frustration from last night building in her chest.

Stupid ski trip. Stupid uninvited guests. Stupid birthday that Cassian isn’t even treating like a birthday.

Gritting her teeth, Nesta jabs her ski poles into the ground. She’ll conquer this hill, and then she’ll conquer the rest of the trail, and then she’ll take her skis and set them on fire.

With everyone briefly preoccupied and no eyes on her, Nesta pushes herself downhill. Her skis slip a little as she takes off but she readjusts her feet the way Cassian showed her, regaining control. She takes a deep breath, realizing the height isn’t as scary as she thought it would be. Testingly, she bends her knees and pushes herself farther, gaining speed.

“Oh, oh, look!” she hears Gwyn say from behind her. “She’s doing it!”

The voice breaks Nesta out of her precarious concentration, and she almost misses the kid right in front of her skiing at the pace of a turtle. Gasping, Nesta swerves at the last second to avoid running him over.

Her skis clack into each other and she feels her ankle twist, and then she’s down. Hard. Her face meets snow and her ski gear jabs into her body as she tumbles down the rest of the hill, until she finally meets flat ground and rolls to a painful stop.

Nesta only hears a dull roar in her ears as she slowly pushes herself upright. Ignoring alarmed looks from stray skiers around her, she reaches forward and unstraps one ski from her foot, then the other. Her goggles fall to the ground next. Once free, she stands up and walks away, ignoring the calls of her friends from the hilltop.

She walks until she loses sight of the trail and then the resort, until the flattened and trampled snow piles up into powdery mounds untouched by human presence. A cropping of towering evergreens appears before her, and she heads straight for the thicket without pausing.

Once safely entombed by the dark tree trunks and frosted branches, Nesta releases a breath and screams. Screams until the frustration and anger within her bluntens just a little.

The forest absorbs her fire and answers with silence.

“Better now?” Cassian’s voice comes from behind her.

Nesta whirls, ready to fling her next scream at him for having the nerve to follow her, but she only restrains herself because it’s his birthday. Guilt and humiliation nips at her; she shouldn’t be doing this on his birthday. “Leave me alone.” Her voice is raw from shrieking.

Cassian only takes a step closer to Nesta, eyeing her up and down. “You’re not hurt, right? ’Cause that would be embarrassing for you.”

Any edge that was taken off starts to build up again, and Nesta really doesn’t want to look at him right now. “Cassian—”

“Your face is turning red,” he suddenly gasps, pointing. “You should try yelling again, babe. I don’t think the entire resort heard you last time.”

Done with her boyfriend’s shit, Nesta releases a growl and rushes at him. He’s a lot closer than she realized, and in a blink she slams right into his broad chest and shoves him with all her might.

Cassian laughs, short and blunt, and pushes her right back. Her back hits hard-packed snow and then he’s on top of her, pinning her wrists loosely beside her head. Icy wetness seeps past the neck of her jacket.

“Do you want me to fucking bite you?” Nesta snarls, getting in Cassian’s face.

“Always,” he says without hesitation, pressing closer to her. “But first you gotta take a breather.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she seethes back. At this rate, she really might bite him. She wants to see his smug face drop when he realizes he pushed her too far.

“You might have an aneurysm at this rate with your anger issues.” He pouts prettily. “Imagine how sad that would make me.”

“I DON’T HAVE ANGER ISSUES!” she shrieks.

Cassian barely blinks. Nesta breathes heavily in the ensuing silence, realizing how embarrassing this is for her. Yet she doesn’t know how to stop.

Closing her eyes, she drops her head to the ground and turns away. Wishing she could sink into the ground and vanish for a few minutes, at least until she gets herself under control again.

After a moment of quiet, she feels the back of Cassian’s fingers brush her neck. “I wondered where that spitfire girl went,” he says lowly. “She didn’t die. You just hid her very well.”

Nesta’s body doesn’t know whether to feel soothed or incited by the touch, the words. “Does it make you happy?” she breathes, her eyes still closed. “That she’s still there?”

“It would be murder if you ever got rid of her. Don’t you dare,” he threatens.

Nesta huffs a derisive laugh. It’s easy for him to say, when he isn’t the one that has to live with it. “I bet you’re enjoying this.”

“Only if you are.” He sounds completely genuine, and Nesta feels him pluck something out of her hair—likely a snowflake.

Realizing Cassian has long since released her wrists, she opens her eyes and stares at the column of his neck. She doesn’t see the regret and concern on his face when he says, “I ruined today, didn’t I?” She watches him swallow before he adds, “I’m sorry, Nes.”

“It’s your birthday,” she mutters, looking away. “You can do whatever you want.” Even if it’s spending the whole day skiing.

“You’re right about that.” His warm breath hits her nose, and now that Nesta’s head is somewhat clear, she can feel every place where his body settles into hers.

Before she can betray herself and forget how upset she was at him only a few minutes ago, Cassian pushes up and off of her. Frigid air replaces where he was just sprawled, and then he’s holding out a hand to Nesta. “We’re going back to our room,” he says, watching Nesta’s feet closely as he helps her stand. “You can ride on my back.”

“Why?” Nesta grumbles, brushing herself off. “I can walk fine.”

“You twisted your right ankle on the way down that hill, and you started limping as soon as you thought you were out of sight.” Cassian turns around and points at his back. “Get on while I’m being nice.”

That makes Nesta scoff, because he’s always nice, but she has little fight left today. She tries to reach up to wrap her arms around his neck, but Cassian grabs her legs and hitches her up onto his back before she can struggle.

She responds with a scowl, clasping her hands across his chest and getting comfortable. “You noticed I was hurt but didn’t have a problem with tackling me to the ground?”

Cassian squeezes her thighs and holds her closer, tossing a blinding smile over his shoulder. “Sorry if I wasn’t expecting you to try to jump me with an injured foot. You took me by surprise.”

“Bullshit,” Nesta says as they start walking out of the trees. “You did it on purpose.”

“Do you like starting fights, Archeron?”

“Do you?” she retorts.

They bicker back and forth like that until they reach the resort, and even once they’re inside the lobby, Cassian doesn’t put Nesta down. The exhaustion of the day has settled over the both of them by then, and the elevator ride up to the penthouse is peacefully quiet.

Back at the empty suite, Cassian carefully lowers Nesta to her feet. “Take your clothes off,” is all he says before heading for the bathroom, shedding his heavy outer jacket as he goes. Nesta has no problem listening; she’s all too happy to take her snow-drenched gear off and breathe air-conditioned air again.

She only realizes as she’s removing her boots that her overwrought emotions must have dulled the real pain of her fall. Her entire body aches down to the bone, and her twisted ankle has it the worst. Inspecting the swollen skin around her foot, she wonders if Cassian will make her see a doctor when the sound of a running faucet pulls her attention. Still dressed in her thermal underwear, Nesta pads over to the bathroom.

Inside, the room is dim, and the only light comes in from the single window panel at the far end of the room. Cassian sits on the rim of the clawfoot tub as it fills with heated water, already naked.

Nesta coughs, caught off guard. The sight is far from unfamiliar to her, and yet she hates to admit that she’ll never not react to it.

Cassian looks up at her, meeting her eyes head on, and a giggle almost escapes her.

“What’s that dumb look on your face?” he says with high brows. “Take your clothes off and get in.”

Nesta firmly schools her face into obedience. Is she a grown woman or a schoolgirl? she chides herself as she strips naked. But as soon as she’s free of her top and leggings, Cassian stops her. “Turn around,” he says.

Is this a sex thing? She hopes it’s a sex thing. She does as she’s told, and hears Cassian hiss in a breath. Glancing at the mirror over the sink, Nesta winces when she realizes what he sees. “Damn.” Her back is peppered with still-forming bruises from her fall, along with her legs and ribs.

Getting up, Cassian approaches her and cautiously runs his fingers over a reddened spot on her ribs. “I think a ski pole stabbed me there,” Nesta says, frowning down at the bruise. She looks like shit, and not at all in a desirable way.

“How’s your ankle?” Cassian kneels to check for himself, handling her like a porcelain doll. He presses gently above the bone where she twisted it. “Does that hurt?”

Nesta considers saying yes, just so he can keep fussing over her like this, but she shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just a little achy.”

A sudden chaste kiss between her legs makes her yelp, and she twists to find Cassian still on his knees, grinning sheepishly up at her. “You know what can help with those aches?”

Nesta blanks as Cassian runs a calloused hand up her inner leg. “Uh…really good dick?”

Cassian is visibly trying not to smile when he says, “A bath.” He stands and turns the faucet off, before going to help Nesta into the tub.

Steaming hot water just beneath the point of being uncomfortable hits Nesta’s calves, then her hips and chest. She might moan in relief as she sinks into the bath.

Cassian settles in across from her, taking up most of the tub space as Nesta twists her ponytail into a bun. He takes her ankle onto his lap and starts massaging above the injury. He notes, “We haven’t been alone like this in ages.”

“I remember when it was my job to be the chill guy,” he continues, rubbing circles into her leg. “I was the one doing stupid shit, and now I have to tell other people to knock it off when they do stupid shit. Since when did Azriel take my role?” he mutters to himself.

Nesta tilts her head against the lip of the tub and watches Cassian, taking in the barely visible lines of weariness on his face. She was once in a similar boat, too, where she had no one to answer to but herself. “Do you miss it?” she asks hesitantly. “Life before we got to know each other?” A life spent in the company of his friends, meeting different women every other week and being as free as possible.

“No,” he says easily. “I miss life before we had to share each other with other people.” He meets her eyes and smirks. “Who knew monogamy could be so exciting?”

Nesta’s stomach curls at his honesty, and she doesn’t know what to say. In the silence, Cassian reaches for a washcloth and lathers it with a bar of pine scented soap. But before he can reach for Nesta, she snatches the washcloth from him and pulls herself forward into the cradle of his limbs. What she can’t say, she’ll just have to show.

She starts soaping up his arms, granting extra attention to his tattooed biceps.

“You’re hurt—” he tries to protest.

“Shut up.” She runs the washcloth over his shoulders, across his collarbones.

When Nesta reaches his chest, she starts, “Earlier in the woods...I lost control.”

Cassian looks wary, but she goes on, “I don’t know why I did that. I thought I didn’t do that anymore.”

“I know why,” he says simply. “You were having a bad day. It was overwhelming.” He shrugs.

“But I’m better than that,” she insists. “You might think it's cute or funny when I—lose it, but I spent years training myself not to fall apart at the slightest inconvenience.” She takes in a breath, her movements slowing. “I learned how to escape reality, remember? I climbed into books and TV and songs, and at one point my entire life passed me by because I refused to participate in it. If I didn't participate, I couldn't be hurt.” She wrings out the washcloth, and Cassian carefully pries it out of her grip.

Nesta places her empty hands on her thighs, avoiding his touch, his eyes. “I think you were one of the only people who ever made me want to come back to real life,” she offers awkwardly. “That's why you made me uncomfortable at first. There were times I would look at you and think, He's better than anyone from the books. If I start living on the same plane as him, I can have him. Does that make sense?”

Cassian swallows visibly, but nods.

“It seemed like an impossible thing to do at the time—participate in the real world, make real friends. But have you noticed? I don’t read as many romance novels anymore.” Not because she doesn’t love them, but because she no longer needs them to remind herself she's alive.

She looks up at him, searching for his thoughts and opinions. Cassian looks like he's doing the same with her face, but then he says, “If you need to scream, even if it’s at me, tell me. I’ll take you somewhere far away, or I’ll let you have it out right in front of everyone. Whatever the hell you want, as long as you tell me. Please.”

Nesta starts to shake her head, adamant, but he stops her with the most pitiful look he's ever given her. “There’s nothing I hate seeing more than you trying to swallow down your rough edges. Even in the woods, you were about to tame yourself before I provoked you.” Cassian holds out a pinky, completely serious. “Consider it my birthday gift. Don’t do that shit anymore.”

Nesta stares at him, his plea warring with years of conditioned self-restraint. “I already got you a birthday gift,” she finally grumbles, but hooks his pinky with hers.

He seems satisfied, but doesn't let go of her pinky. With surprising strength, he uses their hooked fingers to pull Nesta into him, and she just barely catches herself on his chest before he brings her head down and kisses her deep.

Nesta already has her legs adjusted around his waist and his cock pressed against her stomach before she can pull away far enough to choke, “What’s this for?”

He leans up and catches her lips with his again, dipping his tongue just far enough inside to flick the roof of her mouth before retreating. “For existing. And for those aches.” He presses down lightly on a bruise at her back and runs a soothing thumb over it right after. Between her thighs, she feels him growing hard.

Nesta huffs a distracted laugh, the steam from the water sending a red flush up her chest and neck. It's suddenly very hot, and she unconsciously squirms in his lap. “I just realized I’ve never had sex in the bath before,” she says out of nowhere, rubbing her chest and quickly dropping her arms. She’s babbling, she knows. Contrary to popular media, being a seductress is harder than it looks. Half the time she has no idea what to say, and she considers herself lucky that Cassian is driven wild by it anyway.

Cassian entertains her, nodding along while his fingers slip past her ass, brushing her folds. “That sounds like something that should be amended, don’t you think?”

“Well, in terms of comfort I’m not sure if it’ll be better than the shower—” She’s cut off by a finger teasing at her entrance, making her jerk. “Yes,” she says quickly. “Yes, it should be amended.”

He hums thoughtfully, leaning in to nibble and suck at her neck. Her hardened nipples brush against his chest, and Nesta pushes closer into Cassian’s embrace. She’s half-rocking against him when she rasps, “How do you give head in the bath? Do I, like, have to hold my breath underwater?”

“You don’t need to know how,” he mutters, grasping her by the hips and tugging her up so that he’s eye level with her chest. He starts leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses across her breasts. “You’re not doing anything I don’t tell you to do today.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta’s grip on Cassian’s shoulders tightens when he brings a pink nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and pulling off with a flick of his tongue. She can’t move her hips for fear of climaxing at the slightest touch. “It’s your birthday,” she manages to get out. “And I like seeing what I can do to you.”

“Then save it for your birthday.” He pulls her back down firmly into his lap, making her thighs clench with restraint. “Because I like seeing what I do to you more.”

To prove his point, he parts her legs and slips one finger inside her. The smug pride on his face at what he finds makes Nesta move to grip the rim of the tub. Having a pretty boyfriend might have been a mistake, she thinks. That kind of face will get away with anything. Right now, for example.

“Tell me what you want, then,” she pleads.

Cassian leans back, pretending to think. “Sit on my cock,” he finally says.

An easy enough order, one Nesta is all too excited to carry out in only a few movements. It takes a minute to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, and the water doesn’t help in dousing the fire in her veins at all. With heat pounding deep in her core, Nesta releases a terse breath. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and Cassian watches.

“Now don’t move,” he orders.

“What?” Nesta’s knees involuntarily clench around his hips, her body already craving the feel of moving against him, on top of him.

He levels her with a look. “No clenching, no rocking, no touching.” He hisses in a thoughtful breath, combing a wet hand through his hair. “Actually, that isn’t very fair, is it?”

Nesta is about to nod furiously when he says, “You still need to wash yourself.” He hands her the washcloth she used on him earlier and leans his elbow on the rim of the tub. “Be quick about it. No games.”

Nesta’s eyes widen, looking at the washcloth, then back up at Cassian. Excitement tingles in her fingers and toes, and she doesn’t want to argue with him.

Gulping tightly, she soaps up the washcloth, then smooths the lather over her arms. It’s hard to focus on what she’s doing when there’s a pounding pressure between her legs, and the only thing that keeps her going is that she’ll be rewarded when she’s done. Cassian doesn’t bother watching her, instead tipping his head back against the tub and closing his eyes. From this angle, the tendons in his neck stand out clearly, and the hard line of his jaw looks tense. Nothing on his calm face reveals that Nesta is the reason for his tension, though.

Bringing the soapy cloth over her breasts, Nesta looks up to see if Cassian is secretly peeking at her through his lashes. His eyes remain shut, the perfect portrait of a man at rest.

Suddenly, his hips shift beneath hers, and Nesta nearly drops the washcloth. Straightening up, she has to use herculean strength to force her inner walls to relax around him. “You moved,” she accuses him.

“I was getting comfortable,” he says, still not opening his eyes.

“Why can you move but I can’t?”

That gets him to look at her. His eyes are hooded and lazy when he says, “You’re still talking?”

“Maybe if you had clearly explained the rules—” Nesta starts to grumble, but shuts up when he quirks a brow at her. She won’t lose this game, not for anything—even if she’s split at the seams with Cassian inside her and is one thread away from completely snapping.

Now fully alert, Cassian watches Nesta finish washing up. He hasn’t touched her once since he pulled her onto his cock, and now Nesta tries to make up for the aching lack by pretending her roaming hands are his.

It’s not until the washcloth reaches her tummy that Nesta pauses, her hand frozen over her lower abdomen. Because there, even past the cloth, she can feel him. The skin just slightly bulges, and she looks down at herself with her lips slightly fallen apart. She didn’t realize he was nestled so deep in her, but now she swallows past a lump in her throat. “Cassian…” she starts weakly. Every last muscle is trembling with the effort to stay still. Can he really be unaffected by all of this? Is she really the only one dying right now?

Without intending to, her hand drops the cloth, slipping toward her clit. She can only brush the sensitive nub before Cassian says quietly, “Don’t.”

So this is against the rules, too. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, she’s strung so tight. Taking a shallow breath, she grabs the pitcher from the shelf by the tub and fills it with water, using it to rinse off the suds. When she’s done, with water droplets running down every inch of her, she dares to look at Cassian again. Her anxiousness to get this over with must be written all over her face, and yet.

“Good,” Cassian says, voice just a little grated.

Nesta’s heart rate picks up a beat. She’s finally getting her reward.

“Now sit still and pretty while I rest,” he says, sinking even lower into the tub—and causing his cock to dig even deeper into Nesta. “This is a bath, not a splash pad.”

Nesta chokes. “What—I thought—”

“Hm?”

She presses her lips together tightly, refusing to protest. He can’t make her warm his cock like this forever, can he? Soon enough he’ll crack.

Four minutes in, and he doesn’t crack. While Nesta gets closer to crying by the second, she has yet to find evidence that he’s even aware of her presence. Her only proof is the fact that he’s still rock hard, occasionally twitching against the depths of her walls.

At five minutes in, Nesta can’t help it. She breaks, and her inner muscles clamp around Cassian with a viselike grip. She half-sobs in pain and relief, and her hips jerk of their own accord.

Cassian’s eyes fly open at that, the pupils blown wide, and Nesta has to catch herself on his chest to keep from crumbling. If she had half a working brain left, she would have noticed the trembling restraint that lines Cassian’s limbs, or the way his eyes burn with welling desire and even sympathy. Instead, she turns her face into his chest and begs weakly, “Pleasepleaseplease.” Her thighs keep shifting, rubbing back and forth to create friction, but she can’t give herself permission to move the way she truly needs until Cassian gives her permission.

Nesta feels Cassian’s broad hand come up to carefully brush her back. She nearly weeps with relief at the touch, but he doesn’t go any further. “What do you want, baby?” he says roughly.

“You,” she forces out. She doesn’t care if this is losing.

“Me, what?” He sounds like he’s about to lose, too.

“I want you to fuck me.” She’s nearly whimpering, trying not to squirm on his lap.

Cassian, the horrible bastard, has the nerve to snicker in her ear, though he sounds more than a little wrecked when he says, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

In a flash, he has Nesta pinned against the porcelain tub. And before she can decide whether to laugh or moan or cry at the turn of events, Cassian covers her mouth with his and thrusts into her, giving her everything she wants.

***

Hours later, after they’ve sated themselves on sex and food and Cassian is napping sprawled out across Nesta’s back, she receives a text from Azriel telling her he won’t be there to celebrate the rest of Cassian’s birthday.

Az: You two deserve the alone time. Also I didn’t get him a present.

Another text pops up before Nesta can reply.

Az: I did order a cake to be sent up to your room, though. Don’t worry, there’s not a picture of your boobs on it.

Nesta’s eyes widen at that, not knowing why—or how—that would be an option. But she completely forgot about getting cake in all the unexpected hassle of their vacation, and not for the first time is she grateful that Azriel came along with them on their trip.

Typing back a quick thank you, Nesta clicks her phone off and curls further into Cassian’s warmth. He shifts on top of her, hugging her closer, and a moment later she feels his nose poking at the crook of her neck. “Good morning,” he murmurs thickly, sleep coating his voice.

“It’s six p.m,” she snickers. The sun slipped behind the mountains just a few minutes ago, leaving the room a blue dark.

Cassian responds by slipping his hands under her oversized tee, rubbing the muscles along her back. “Where’s everyone else?” They haven’t seen Gwyn, Emerie, or Az in hours.

Nesta turns around in Cassian’s arms to face him. “Consider them gone. We’re by ourselves for the rest of the night.”

He perks up at that. “Really?”

A knock sounds from the penthouse door, and Nesta remembers Azriel’s text. She squirms out from under Cassian’s weight with some difficulty and stands off the bed. She points a stern finger at him. “Don’t move from here,” she orders. “I’ll be back.”

Cassian leans back, looking questioning and amused, but Nesta has already jammed her feet into slippers and left the room by then.

She accepts the covered platter from room service at the door and leaves a tip, before carrying the cake over to the coffee table in the living area and setting it down. Within ten minutes, she has an entire setup arranged: the fireplace is up and roaring, the fur throw she stole from Cassian’s couch to bring on vacation is spread out before it, and the cake candles are lit. The Italian dinner that she ordered earlier also arrives by then, and once everything is laid out, she calls for Cassian to come downstairs.

He’s fully dressed in a sweater and jeans when he appears at the top of the short set of stairs, and he looks so excited to see her that he doesn’t notice the cake or the dinner until he’s only a few steps away from her. Very slowly, his smile freezes. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday,” Nesta says. “Duh.”

“But I thought we already celebrated,” he stumbles, looking around. “With the skiing, and the bathtub—”

Nesta makes a face. “You thought that was celebrating?” She shakes her head and beckons Cassian over to the fur throw, right before the table decked out with food.

He sits down beside Nesta, looking over her in nothing but her thin white shirt. “Are you cold? Do you want my sweater?”

She rolls her eyes as far back as they can go. “No, I want you to focus and make a wish before 6:27.”

“How do you know my birth time?”

“Will you do it or not?” she threatens. The candle wax is melting onto the cake.

Cassian stares at her for a moment longer before finally facing the cake. Closing his eyes, he mouths something unintelligible and blows the candles out.

Nesta claps softly. “Happy two years away from thirty. What did you wish for?” She leans closer.

He leans away. “It doesn’t come true if you go around announcing it.”

Nesta’s shoulders drop. “Wishes aren’t real, Cassian.”

“That’s what you say.” He swipes a dollop of chocolate frosting off the cake with his finger and holds it out to Nesta.

Smiling, she wraps her lips around his finger, scraping the chocolate off with her teeth and licking it clean. He sucks on the same finger when she’s done, chasing after her taste and the lingering frosting. “What do you want first?” he asks. “Dinner or dessert?”

“This.” Nesta pulls out a small box from under the table, placing it in front of Cassian. She didn’t have time to find wrapping paper or a bag, but she’s a bit proud of herself anyway.

Cassian once again looks taken by surprise. “You didn’t have to…” He trails off as he reaches for the box. It’s already obvious what it is, but he still opens it carefully, hesitantly.

He stares at the silver watch for a little while and then looks back up at Nesta. “I…” He clears his throat.

“What do you think?” In all honesty, Nesta already knows. But she needs to hear it from him.

He meets her eyes. “It’s so…normal. Do you know what I mean?”

It’s the type of gift that Nesta’s mother would have given to her father, the type of gift that wives would give to their husbands. Not necessarily original or thoughtful, but domestic.

“Since you like to spend your time thinking about taxes and minivans and stuff,” Nesta says, remembering their last conversation about the future, “I thought you’d like something normal.”

Cassian laughs at that. He takes the watch out of the box and turns it over in the firelight, still a little dumbstruck. “I love it,” he says roughly.

Nesta kicks him in the knee. “It’s a watch, not an engagement ring.”

But he doesn’t hear a word, already clasping it onto his wrist.

***

Their last day at the resort starts early with Gwyn, Emerie, and Az banging on the suite door at five in the morning. Though Cassian is already up by then, Nesta snarls and snaps like a bitch at being dragged out of bed to watch the sunrise.

With everyone’s bags packed and waiting at the door, they all gather on the balcony connected to the suite in content silence. Azriel nurses a thermos of coffee that he refuses to share with Cassian, and Nesta is wrapped up in that fur throw she loves, half-asleep against Emerie.

When the sky starts lightening, Cassian pulls Nesta away from Emerie and into his body. “You’re gonna miss it,” he murmurs onto the top of her head.

She blinks awake, looking out at the sky slowly being streaked with a dozen colors. From here, the view over the mountains and the quiet town some miles beneath the resort is breathtaking. Easily better than any sunrise Cassian could have shared with Nesta back home.

It’s beautiful, and in that moment he decides he wants to see even more beautiful places than this with Nesta. Someday.

“Pretty,” she yawns, tilting her head back against his chest. Cassian feels guilty for keeping her up so late the night before, but he’s not ashamed of how she rests in his arms right now.

After the sun climbs past the lowest peak, the group of them slowly but surely come more alive. Emerie asks Az to go inside with her and do a final check before they leave, and Nesta shakes both the blanket and Cassian’s arms off herself.

“Some coffee will wake you up,” he promises her, leaving her outside in the dewy morning air with a kiss on the temple.

When Cassian returns to the balcony with two freshly brewed cups, he finds Gwyn and Nesta in deep conversation. “I never apologized for crashing your weekend,” Gwyn is saying.

“You don’t need to,” Nesta responds, watching the world wake up below her.

“Still,” Gwyn says, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I acted out of character, didn’t I?”

Nesta turns to her then, the sun haloing her face, and the look of understanding she wears makes Cassian take a step back inside.

“He does that to me,” Gwyn goes on, looking lost as ever. “I don’t know why he does that to me.”

“First love will do that to anyone,” Nesta says.

This isn’t a conversation Cassian should be overhearing, he realizes. Turning around with his coffees, he goes to find Emerie and Azriel instead.

In the living area, Emerie realizes at the last minute that she’s missing her phone charger. By the time she finds it, Nesta and Gwyn have rejoined the group.

Cassian hands Nesta her still-warm coffee with a warmer smile. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Hell yes, baby.” She slings an arm around his waist.

They barely make it to the resort lobby before Azriel and Gwyn start arguing over which route to take home.

“Why would you add an extra hour to your trip for no reason?” Azriel is saying.

“It’s none of your business!” Gwyn retorts.

“She’s scared of highways,” Emerie inserts.

While they bicker on the way to check out, Cassian finds Nesta’s hand and runs a finger down her palm. “Hey, Nes?”

“Hm?” She looks up at him.

He curls his fingers around hers. “Thank you for doing this.”

***

a/n: i cant keep posting chapters right before i sit down to cry in front of kdramas

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fanfic #nessian au

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rinstars · 3 years

Text

pool party

pairing: suna x reader

genre: smut

word count: 2k+

tags: fingering, penetration, public sex, dacryphilia, size kink, a tiny bit of praise, degradation/humiliation, mention of toys, strangers/neighbors sex, overstimulation, multiple use of different names, kind of dubcon

description: when you decided to go for a swim in the middle of the night on the private pool of your apartment complex to relax and things took a different turn.

after getting through a whole week filled with nothing but paperworks, meetings, and deadlines – you need a good swim. that's what you tell yourself as you shuffle around your room to search for your phone and towel, setting it on the bed as you pick out a good bathing suit to wear for your little relaxing swim on the pool of your building.

it's close to midnight. surely, you would be the only one in the space, giving you the alone time you've been praying for the whole week. speeding along the hallways and into the elevator with your robe wrapped around your body, you feel excitement bubble through your stomach at the thought of finally getting rest.

you wait patiently, tapping your foot on the marble until the elevator opened, presenting you with a sight you did not expect to see. standing shirtless in the pool, with half of his body submerged into the water, is your neighbor suna rintaro.

the gasp that escaped your lips was unavoidable as you looked at the hard muscle of his abdomen littered with water droplets, his wet long hair pushed back from his face with a bored, nonchalant look. wetness started pooling on the bikini you're wearing, making you curse yourself in the head. truthfully, you haven't been able to release your frustrations for a whole week, so one could only guess how much you're aching to be touched.

refusing to look like a fool in front of suna, you decided against hopping back in the elevator and dismissing the idea of a swim. your nimble fingers reach the knot of your robe, undoing it before shrugging it off your shoulders and onto the floor. you didn't miss the way he watches you shamelessly, following your every move with a sharp gaze.

when you eventually dipped in the pool, you stayed as far from him as possible, scared if you were within close proximity, you would do something regrettable.

barely any light illuminates the pool, your bodies below the water almost invisible to the eye. an idea pops into your head, admittedly a stupid idea, but you couldn't ignore the throb between your legs. turning your back against suna, you let your fingers run from your stomach to the band of your bikini, slipping your fingers in and parting your folds open. you let out an inaudible gasp at the cold water enveloping your twitching bud.

you didn't move for a while, just letting yourself feel the cold water wash away the heat of your warm cunt. lost in the mild feeling of euphoria, you didn't hear the movement of someone getting close to you, the ripples he created in the water unnoticed. it wasn't until you felt someone grip your wrist from behind did you jump at the realization that suna must have noticed what you were trying to do.

wordlessly, he pulled your fingers away from inside your panties, tugging on the wrist he caught earlier. you let him, face flushed from combined embarrassment and arousal. his hard chest is pressed on your back, making you almost want to throw your head back and lean to him. he shifted a little, causing a hard muscle to bump in the middle of your thighs, making you to let out a disgruntled groan.

in your head, you thought fuck it and started to slowly push your behind to him, so your ass is resting on his hardening cock. however, cold and wrinkled fingers suddenly pressed on your clit, making you scream out. he slapped a hand on your mouth, pulling you closer to him as his fingers circle your clit with such ferocity.

"even the water can't wash away how fucking wet you are." he growls in your ear, nibbling on the lobe as he continues his torture on your twitching clit. you spread your legs father, allowing him to slip his fingers further in you. the pads of his calloused fingers reached your slit, pushing two fingers in it with warning.

"s-suna." you throw your head back, clenching your walls around him as he assaults your pussy with the repeated, harsh pumps of his digits. his tongue is latched on your neck, sucking bruises on the skin with his teeth.

"if you wanted me that bad, you should've just said so from the beginning, baby." he whispered with a teasing smile before inserting a third finger in you and stretching you out with his scissoring. you feel your legs tremble, losing the strength to stay still and standing, but the way he's ramming his fingers upwards keep you upright.

"you didn't know the walls separating us our thin?" he spoke with a teasing tone but you weren't able to catch on, until he continued. "you think i don't hear you moaning my name out as you pump toys in and out of your cunt, you fucking slut?"

you gasp, both at shock from the statement and the way he's fingering you knuckles deep now, with the addition of his thumb rubbing digits on your sensitive clit. you didn't know what to say at the statement. there's no point in denying something that's real.

instead, you rock on his finger, almost as if you're riding his fingers to orgasm. his other hand gripped your jaw, turning your face to him. you were going to close the distance for a kiss when he denied you and instead pushed your mouth open before spitting on it.

"swallow it, bunny." he instructs, watching you with animalistic eyes. arousal spreads through you even more as you swallow, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. he turns you on so much. you've been imagining his fingers in you since the moment he moved next door, the feeling of his beautiful athlete fingers splitting you apart.

you were about to release a large moan when he shushed you again, turning the both of you around. shock replaced the confusion written on your face as you heard approaching voices, eyes widening at the possibility of being caught.

"oh, you like that?" he laughed in your ear as his fingers started moving even faster than before (if that was even possible). "clenching at the thought of being caught, huh? what a dumb little slut you are."

it was all just too much – his dirty talk and long fingers fuelling your desire. your hips bucked for the last time as you cum around his fingers, coating his hand with your slick.

he retracted his hands away from your pussy but remained his hold around your body, facing the two other boys now swimming in the very same pool you're both in. you felt him nod in greeting as the others smiled back at both of you, noticing the way one of them stares at your breast a little longer than necessary.

they both swim a little closer to you and suna, starting a small talk you couldn't care to join in. not when all of your strength has been reduced to nothing just a few minutes ago.

you were nodding along to the conversation when you felt your panties being pushed aside, making you gasp when you realize that it is, in fact, suna's throbbing cock.

the guys snapped their attention to you when they heard you make the noise, asking you if you're fine. with a hard nod and a tight smile, you assure them it's nothing. with much effort, you feel the tip of his cock slip inside your tightening cunt, making you bite your lip to prevent a sound from escaping. in your head, you curse at the boys in front of you for making it way too difficult to act, but then you knew that this is exactly what suna wanted.

your harsh glare on the duo never faltered, not once, until one of them noticed and hurriedly tried to pull the other way, whispering something about how they're taking up too much of your time. a flood of relief washes over you, and the moment they're a good distance away, suna once again turns your back to where the audience are.

"what a good girl." his fingers brush the damp hair falling on your face. he angled his hips better before slowly continuing to ease in your little cunny.

you have always imagined suna was a big guy, from the way he's built and how ridiculously tall he looks. but what you didn't expect is that he was this huge. you have never failed to accommodate something when you're being penetrated, but half way in with suna and you're already overstimulated. by the time he's all the way in, you gasp as your fingers fly to your lower abdomen, feeling his tip all the way there.

"fuck, you're so – ahh, s-so big." you grip his forearms as he began slowly pushing his length balls deep. the coil in your stomach tightening by the minute as he continuously tortures you with the lazy buckles of his hips.

"please move faster, suna, p-please please." you beg him, tears lining the edge of your eyes and a broken sob makes its way out of your throat.

suna felt his cock twitching and hardening at the sight of your face, tears moistening your eyes with a pout etched on your lips. "when you imagine me fucking you do i go slow like this or do i split you apart with my cock, hmm?"

humiliation fills you at the thought of him hearing you get off to his name every night but you certainly can't stop now, not with his cock wrapped in your tightness at a public pool where people are also swimming. with a choke, "y-you split me apart your cock."

he didn't even need to reply after that as he pulls his cock all the way back before slamming all of him into you again. his tip repeatedly kissing the opening of your cervix, making you let out a rather loud moan. he pinched your clit at that, the other hand wrapped around your throat.

"do you want a show? make a sound again, baby, and i'll show them what kind of slut you are." he threatens, kissing your cheeks and temples as tears keep falling – from the pain of having to keep your voice down to escape humiliation.

the water below you is moving so rapidly that it's creating ripples and bubbles to the surface, paired with the squelching sounds from where your bodies meet each other. he fucks your cunt deep and hard, making you feel every protruding vein along with every inch of his skin.

"does this compare? to the toys you stuff your cunt with?" he taunts you, groaning as he feels you clamp down on him even tighter. when you refuse to open your mouth in fear of making a sound, suna pulls your bra down from your breast, exposing your nipples to the harsh cold air. you immediately trembled at the feeling, head falling down as your face contorts in bliss. you were sure if suna wasn't holding you by the neck, you would have submerged into the water already.

with a strained sound, you managed to say. "nothing c-compares. your cock is so fat, so g-good — a-ahh suna.. 'm so stuffed."

when his fingers swirl your nipples, pinching both sides as he pumps himself into you along with his whispered degradation in your ear, it was all just too much. you feel your vision turning white as orgasm bubbles through your body.

suna curses a string of fuck as he feels you squeeze the seed out of him, almost as if you're telling him to cum with you but refusing to let him go at the same time. "want to be my little cumdump, bunny? want me painting your insides white?"

you nod at him with eagerness, chin touching the knuckles of the hand on your throat as you cream around him one last time, releasing your sticky juice into his cock. soon after, he fills you up too. you feel the sticky liquid gushing and dancing inside you, trailing down your thighs as it overflows.

"no no no no, clench, my angel. don't let a single drop out." he hums in your ear before pulling away from you and placing your panties back in place after your bra.

you nod, clenching your walls before eventually collapsing in his arms from exhaustion. he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, "are we taking this to your house or mine?"

#suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou x reader #suna smut #suna x reader #suna x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #tw dubcon

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #peter parker imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader

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gyuluster · 3 years

Text

the prince and the jackal | {f}

collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words

“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”

s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is

p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift

a u t h o r ‘ s n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint @juunnies @bffsoobin @honeyju pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!

back to collab masterlist

back to my masterlist

“And this prayer I make, Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.” — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.

“ONE MORE BLOODY TREE, AND I’LL SCREAM THIS FOREST DOWN!”

You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest.

The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.

“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you.

“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”

Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.

“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”

His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”

You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold.

And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.

Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages.

Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”

The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”

You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”

Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”

You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”

Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.

The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse.

You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing.

Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.

Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?

Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest.

Silence.

You furrowed your brows.

The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.

Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.

Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.

You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.

Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness.

But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.

“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”

No response.

“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”

Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy.

With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure.

You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.

It was then the shadows moved.

A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness.

And all of nature followed suit.

You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.

Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys.

Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.

The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.

Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”

There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”

When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.

More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.

Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.

Your threats were answered.

Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

You could not suppress your reaction.

The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.

The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?”

By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives.

“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.

“Where is your anger?”

Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.

“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.

“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest.

This nuisance before you would make sure of that.

A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”

“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down.

A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”

He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent of...flowers and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”

You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image.

Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.

When you wish to destroy what I own.

“Oh gods,” you slipped out.

The boy smiled.

No, not just the boy.

The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom.

Choi Beomgyu.

Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.

And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.

Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”

His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”

The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.

He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent.

“Do you deny it?”

You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.

Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.

“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive.

“And I will not stop.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?

Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips.

How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?

He said so himself.

“How?”

You blinked.

The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”

His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself.

It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?

You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.

Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?

With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you.

“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”

This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets.

Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.

“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”

You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.

“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”

Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.

No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.

“We can start by changing that.”

It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”

He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”

You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”

It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.

Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.

You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”

The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.

It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness.

His hand touched Aurum’s face.

With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?

Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier.

Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.

“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”

Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”

“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”

He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”

You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”

Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that you...you cannot talk to animals?”

Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy.

He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?

“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”

You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable.

So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.

“I have never felt these things.”

The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him.

His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.

He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped.

Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.

Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life.

“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”

Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”

Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.”

You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.”

With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines.

“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”

He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”

You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.

With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”

“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.

And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.

Flustered, you soured even further.

“Are you ready, jackal?”

You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.

The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him.

You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud.

If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”

“That will be just enough!”

The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you.

“Hey, jackal?”

A sigh. “Yes?”

“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”

You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”

Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.”

He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”

Your mouth parted at the little revelation.

Argenti. Silver.

Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass.

A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”

Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes.

You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted.

“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”

Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”

Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion.

Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.

“Open your eyes, jackal.”

Somehow, on instinct, you obliged.

And widened them further.

You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.

Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.

“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.

You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.

Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”

“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”

Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”

A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence.

“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”

The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound.

Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.

Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation.

Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.

“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”

The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?

What can this boy not do?

“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”

Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul.

It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”

You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”

And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”

There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”

“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”

Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”

You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”

Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass.

Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth.

He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.

Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.

No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.

“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”

Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you.

Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome.

You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle.

“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left.

“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?

His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”

The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”

Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”

You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”

Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland.

Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”

Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.

You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth.

“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual.

You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand.

On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…

Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting.

His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart.

“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”

“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.

See from within.

What could you see?

Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.

I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.

But in reality, you were not alone.

No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.

You swore you stopped breathing.

Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.

A familiar voice entered your mind.

“Do you see it?”

The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer.

“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”

And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.

When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”

You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.

“The seeds.”

Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.

You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.

“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.

“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”

The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.

“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?”

Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.

“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”

He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”

You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the kindness...to all that he represented.

His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze.

There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.

FRATERNISING WITH THE HEIR OF REGNA TERRAE WOULD BE THE DEATH OF YOU.

Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.

You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off.

In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom.

Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.

These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.

“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”

Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before.

The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.

You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.

“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”

On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings.

By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being.

He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant.

Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.

“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”

Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”

You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”

The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”

Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”

“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”

That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.

“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”

You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals.

There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?

Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”

Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”

“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”

You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”

“But this is...quite different.”

The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves.

“Follow me, ____.”

With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.

As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.

Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable.

You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.

The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.

It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.

Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.

Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.

His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.

Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through.

There was a deathly silence for a singular moment.

You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling.

Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain.

Your very breath was snatched from your lungs.

Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.

Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was.

“The Tree of Life.”

Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.

“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.

“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”

Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.

You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches.

“Come.”

You perked up at the Prince’s voice.

“You must get a closer look.”

Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine.

Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?”

You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.

If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.

You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.

By the gods.

“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”

There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.

It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained.

Kim Namjoon.

His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?”

You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.

“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”

He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”

On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”

The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”

Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”

A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned.

It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.

Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces.

You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.

He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.

Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.

A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose.

You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest.

“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back.

Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.

Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck.

A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.

“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”

Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.

“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”

Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes.

What is all this for?

You only had one person in mind.

But that was not enough.

No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach.

A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.

The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon.

A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.

He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.

You had been defeated.

And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.

This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.

Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.

He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”

Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over.

You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.

What you heard was something completely different.

An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights.

What...what was going on?

When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.

When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.

Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife.

What you saw instead was something else entirely.

Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.

Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star.

Perhaps you truly were dead.

The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.

“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”

You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation.

The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.

But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.

“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.

“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”

Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.

Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.

A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of.

The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you.

You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”

A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”

A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.

Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.

“I know, brave human.”

The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.

Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.

You truly could not believe what you saw.

Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.

Mother Nature saved you from death.

Truly, utterly, ethereal.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.

Beomgyu.

Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.

“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”

Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.

A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”

You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”

His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”

Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.

His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s.

“You called me Beomgyu.”

He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss.

His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.

When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself.

“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”

The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.

You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice.

“You both could have done that without me being here.”

Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.

Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”

A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”

“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.

You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”

Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly.

It was then you sensed the heartbeat.

Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.

Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome.

Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time.

When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up.

Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.

“Nature has accepted you, ____!”

You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet.

He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.

“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”

The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer.

The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face.

As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence.

You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home.

When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.

Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.

Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.

The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating.

The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down.

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